


We'll Eat Cake

by h_lovely



Series: By The Ocean [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Smut, Ex-Boyfriends, Friendship, Lots of blushing, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Wedding Fluff, and maybe a bachelor party or two, eventual angst, lots of awkward situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 63,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_lovely/pseuds/h_lovely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He’d not exactly explained to Tanaka that his date was, in fact, a complete stranger being paid to accompany him as his ‘and guest’ in hopes of, yes, making his ex realize just how lucky he’d been to be with Suga for (count it) four long years of his life. So when he turned his gaze to match the steward’s and found a broad-shouldered, dark-haired, golden-skinned, brown-eyed heartthrob stowing a carry-on bag in the overhead above Suga’s seat he was pretty certain that he stopped breathing for a few seconds. <em></em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>(Or, Suga brings an escort to his best friend's wedding.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perfection Is Not A Real Thing (Maybe)

**Author's Note:**

> If you've seen the movie The Wedding Date, then you'll understand immediately that is fic is wholly inspired by it. But, no fear, you don't have to have any prior knowledge of The Wedding Date to enjoy this spiral into gooey, fluffy, angsty, (eventually smutty) Daisuga hell. 
> 
> So without further ado...

_Don’t be nervous._

There were speckles of toothpaste clinging to his lips at the ferocity of his brushing. That persistent little cowlick hovering above his forehead was proving to be exceptionally uncooperative. He had a faint grey tinge hiding just below both of his eyes (bloodshot, to boot). His white linen button down was wrinkled beyond any hopes of repair in the limited time he possessed before he had to be at the airport. 

Don’t be nervous? _Bullshit._

The email he’d opened and proceeded to read and re-read a total of eleven times (twelve now if he counted how his vision was slowly drifting back towards his still open laptop) had either been the most genuinely kind and optimistic message he’d ever been sent. Or else it had been a load of mocking, condescending crap. 

He wanted desperately and cynically to believe the latter, but for some unearthly reason he just couldn’t stop the actual butterflies that erupted in his gut at those words.

_Don’t be nervous. I promise, everything will be perfect._

He _promised_. Like he was some kind of diviner and could guarantee that Sugawara Koushi wouldn’t make a complete and total asshole out of himself. That Sugawara Koushi wouldn’t unwittingly ruin his best friend’s wedding. That Sugawara Koushi wouldn’t just physically implode upon seeing his fellow groomsmen and, coincidentally, his _ex-fiancé_. 

Apparently, one _crow01 @ matchmakers.com_ was going to make everything perfect. 

Well, for six hundred thousand yen and a first-class ticket to Honolulu, he better damn well make everything perfect, sweep Suga off his feet _and_ be the best lay of his entire, everloving life.

With a sharp motion Suga shook his head of the horrid thought. He was an escort, not exactly a hooker, but still the idea of the whole thing had his stomach clenching. However, as he looked at the time on his watch and let out a tiny squeak of a curse, it was definitely too late to back out now. 

As a last ditch effort he ran a damp hand through his silvery-blond locks (which made little to no difference) and then made a very profane and out-of-character gesture towards the article still sitting out on his coffee table (the one appropriately entitled _‘Don’t Leave It To Fate. Hire Your Date’ )_ before locking his front door behind him.

On the way down his front steps the right wheel of his favorite and well-loved leather suitcase broke, unceremoniously. The driver of his cab was apparently a heavy smoker, not only based on his retched cough, but how much Suga’s entire being seemed to soak in the smell of ash and stale smoke. And, as if to top off his already _perfect_ morning, the second he entered SDJ he was met with the knowing face of a coworker in, apparently dire, need. 

“Oh no, I’m not here to work. I’m here strictly as a passenger today, Ennoshita,” Suga announced as he tried his best to skirt around his friend’s pleas. “Customer service will just have to make due without me.”

“But Sugawara-” Ennoshita was following him through the polyester rope maze that was the check-in counter, so he must have been _really_ desperate. “-we’ve already had three flights delayed and Hisashi called in sick and there’s this very stressed out guy on line two that got stuck with his ex-wife because we couldn’t get him out of Narita.”

Suga mentally groaned and found himself giving up on the human-mouse experiment and leaned under the last two remaining rows of line-guides. Ennoshita followed, undeterred, and Suga turned to him with an exhausted frown. “I’m really sorry, Chikara, but I can’t help you. I’m going to be spending an entire week with my not-entirely-stable friends and non-blood-related family members that I haven’t seen in over two years and my flight leaves in exactly thirty-minutes.” 

He reached the baggage-check counter and struggled with depositing his only half-way rolling suitcase onto the scale. Ennoshita gave him a faintly concerned look. “Suga, please.”

With a huff of a sigh Suga turned towards him, brushing a stray strand of hair from his flushed face. “Fine. You check my bag.” He handed his ID to the woman smiling graciously at them from behind her counter and then proceeded to climb past his own bag and into employee only territory without a second look from his fellow-coworkers around him.

He walked with long strides to the nearest open phone and clicked for line two. He took a deep breath and then, in his most flowery voice, said “Hello, this is Sugawara Koushi, how can I help you today?” which, inevitably, morphed quickly into “I completely understand. You just want to do what’s right for the kids-”

“Sugawara?”

Suga clamped his mouth shut and plastered on his best, plastic smile as he found himself in the sights of his stickler boss, unlit cigarette invariably hanging from frowning lips. 

“Mr. Ken,” he amended through clenched teeth, robotically pleasant. “We regret that you were inconvenienced, unfortunately we are not liable.” 

Ukai gave a grunt of approval and then kept walking. 

Suga had to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at the retreating back before, in a hushed and rapid tone, adding, “But just this once I’m going to refund the full price of your ticket. Thank you for calling Japan Airlines. Have a pleasant day!” 

* * *

Half an hour later he found himself clutching desperately to a tiny-sized vodka in his hands. It was becoming a tricky decision whether or not to take the time to pour it into a glass or drink it straight from the bottle.

“Suga, you seriously need to stop freaking out,” Tanaka muttered to him, leaning against the first-class beverage cart with a look of uncharacteristic worry on his face.

Suga barely heard the steward’s words as he’d finally come to a decision and was trying hard not to grimace as he let the burning liquid run angrily down the back of his throat. After he’d finished the bottle and could feel a tingle of warmth spreading through his belly he focussed back on his friend.

“My best friend’s getting married and one of the other groomsmen is my ex,” he explained bluntly, swiping at the corner of his mouth. “I think I have every right to be freaking out.” 

Tanaka just rolled his eyes, setting Suga with one of his characteristic mean-mugs. “Snap out of it so you can show that arrogant ass just what he’s been missing, eh?” 

Suga managed a smile at the advice, but his momentary happiness was short-lived as Tanaka’s fist found it’s way into the edge of his bicep. “Hey, is that your _date_?” 

He’d not exactly explained to Tanaka that his date was, in fact, a complete stranger being paid to accompany him as his ‘and guest’ in hopes of, yes, making his ex realize just how lucky he’d been to be with Suga for (count it) four long years of his life. So when he turned his gaze to match the steward’s and found a broad-shouldered, dark-haired, golden-skinned, brown-eyed heartthrob stowing a carry-on bag in the overhead above Suga’s seat he was pretty certain that he stopped breathing for a few seconds. 

“Suga?” 

That name, it sounded so familiar. Tanaka’s voice echoed in his mind again, this time a little worried. Oh right. _Suga_. That was _his_ name. 

“Huh?” Suga turned to find Tanaka’s brows quirking in opposite directions and staring down at him in utter confusion. 

“Well, aren’t you gonna go sit down with him?” 

He found that his fingers were still clenched around the, now empty, bottle of vodka and Suga had to physically restrain himself from grabbing another one off the cart. “Yeah. Yes. I will- I mean I am. I’m going,” he stuttered out, his tongue suddenly feeling too big for his mouth. 

But before Tanaka could make another remark about his need to ‘chill the hell out,’ Suga found his feet moving confidently towards seats 3A and 3B.

His first thought upon reaching his date was _this is a mistake_. But, as the man stood to greet him with a wide, friendly smile that made his eyes shine under the unflattering cabin-lighting his second thought proved to be uncontrollable. _The best mistake I’ll ever make._

The man reached out to shake his hand which Suga accepted with only slight hesitation, but then, unfoundedly, he was being pulled forward and the hint of a kiss was placed against his cheek just below his (very annoying) little beauty mark. 

“Sugawara Koushi,” came a deep voice that matched the person before him in depth and magnetism. 

Breathing was once again becoming an increasingly difficult problem. “Suga,” he hissed out. “Please, call me Suga.” 

“Alright, Suga.” The man’s smile only grew. “I’m Sawamura Daichi, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Let’s sit.” 

Yes, sitting was a good idea. That’s what you did on airplanes, after all. 

Sawamura stepped back to give Suga the window seat, a true and pure gentleman, before taking his own seat and smoothing his crisp shirt and slacks with deft hands. 

Suga had never exactly been one to experience the sensation that other people called ‘a loss for words.’ Usually he was the one to carry conversation, to offer a bright grin, or a positive air. But here, suddenly in front of a man that seemed, for all intents and purposes, _way out of his league_ Suga could not for any fiber of his being come up with anything at all to broach the suddenly blaring silence. 

Was it good fortune or horrible bad luck that Tanaka Ryuunosuke decided in that moment to show up with two glasses of complimentary champagne in each hand and a toothy, knowing smile pulling at his features?

“Suga-san, you never told me your boyfriend was such a looker.” Tanaka spoke out of the side of his mouth as if the man in question would then be unable to hear the horrifying words spilling off his tactless tongue. 

With a red-tinged blush Suga took the offered beverage and shot the steward his most terrifying glare of disapproval, but it was almost immediately lost on the man as that deep, velvety voice was yet again making itself known. 

“I appreciate the compliment,” Sawamura replied as he clutched his own delicate flute between angular fingers. “But I must admit that I’m certainly not the attractive one in this relationship. Suga overshadows me immensely in the beauty category.” 

Both Tanaka and Suga’s eyes grew wide while Sawamura just sat with a simple smile on his face like he was utterly proud of the tooth-achingly sweet proclamation that now hung thickly in the air between them all. 

Before Suga could quite wrap his head around what exactly was happening, Tanaka’s open palm was smacking the other man sharply on the shoulder. “I like this one, Suga!” he announced loudly. “ _Definitely_ better than the last guy.” 

At that Suga felt his entire body melt into the hot embrace of embarrassment he’d been trying desperately to fend off, but neither of the other men seemed to notice his descent into permanent, personal mortification. 

One of the stewardesses called out to Tanaka then and Suga held his breath, thanking whatever brief guardian was watching over him as the brash man excused himself with another too-friendly slap to Sawamura’s arm. 

He was waiting for the man to turn to him with a terrified expression and explain that he, in fact, would not be able to go through with an entire week of this kind of torture, but instead Sawamura just sat back and sipped at his champagne with a contented sigh. 

Suga found himself fascinated by the movement of the man’s Adam's apple as he swallowed, the long line of his muscular neck, the tiny hint of tanned collar bone visible against the edge of his shirt. 

He had to once again physically shake himself from whatever lewd reverie his subconscious was fabricating. Suga wet his lips with his own beverage and then, with an almost painful swallow, forced himself to open his mouth. “So, Sawamura-”

The brunette titled his head and gaze at the prompt. “Suga, call me Daichi. We are supposed to be madly in love with one another, aren’t we?” There was a twinkle in his eye that meant he was probably (definitely) teasing, but Suga couldn’t fight back the immense flush that once again assaulted his susceptibly pale cheeks. 

“Daichi,” he repeated, realizing immediately that he loved the feeling of those syllables running over his tongue. He had to fight against the desperate urge to keep saying it over and over again.

The man, Daichi, ( _Daichi, Daichi, Daichi_ ) continued to hold his gaze, seeming expectant. Suga swallowed again, this time with absolutely nothing in his throat. “Well, I mean, I guess- I _suppose_ I should warn you-” he huffed a tiny breath, annoyed at the way his tongue seemed to be warring with his mind. “-about my friends.”

“If they’re all as accommodating as he was,” Daichi flicked his head towards where Tanaka stood (probably heavily flirting) with a blonde stewardess near the front of the cabin. “Then I think I’ll be just fine.” 

“Oh, they’re much more normal than Tanaka.” Suga nearly bit his tongue as the words spilled out followed by an unsuppressed chuckle. 

At the sound Daichi’s own mouth quirked at the corners. Suga emphatically ignored that and kept on with his rambling warning. “Well, I guess they’re not _exactly_ normal. I mean, they’re normal in the sense that they’re ordinary people like you and me, but some of them are just a bit-” what the hell was he saying? “-they can sometimes just be a bit over the top, I guess.” 

“Sounds like fun,” Daichi said, with a soft laugh that reminded Suga of faint, summertime thunder.

He was pretty certain that he actually shivered. “Are you being sarcastic or are you seriously just this charming?” 

“I can promise you I’m not being sarcastic,” Daichi explained, his expression suddenly flittering to serious. “But the charming thing- if you want I can dial it down. Though I was under the impression that the whole reason I’m here is so that you can show up to this wedding with someone that will make your ex incredibly jealous, isn’t that right?”

Well, yes, when he put it like _that_ \- Suga mentally groaned. When he put it like that it made Suga seem like some kind of desperate loser trying to win back the love of his life (or at least the person he thought was the love of his life) while simultaneously proving to all of his friends that he hadn’t been simply wallowing in self-pity for the past two years and had, in fact, gotten himself a hunk of a hot boyfriend like one Sawamura Daichi.

Huh. Maybe he _was_ that kind of desperate loser. 

In lieu of exploring the idea that he might actually be going _insane_ , Suga said instead, “You can actually control how charming you are? Is there like a scale or something I should know about?”

“A scale?” Daichi smirked.

“Yeah,” Suga nodded. “Like just now when you told Tanaka that I was- er- overshadowing you in the beauty category. On a scale of one to ten, that was definitely a twelve, at least.” 

“Well, it is my job. Flattery and charisma are part of why I get paid to do what I do.”

“So you’re _acting_.”

Suga regretted the sharpness of his accusation until he watched Daichi’s lips spread into a truly sincere smile. “Well no, not all of the time,” he said before his expression grew into something much more amused than anything. “What, you don’t think I can be a genuinely charming person if I want to be?”

Suga actually gulped. “No, no. That’s not it. I just-”

“Don’t worry.” Daichi laughed again, a full-bodied laugh that Suga found himself wholeheartedly attracted to. “I’m just razzing you a bit.” 

As mollifying as the statement was supposed to be, Suga still found himself entirely out of his element. He had no idea how to proceed, or what words to believe from the man. Had he meant what he’d said about Suga’s beauty, or had that all been just another part of his job? 

Just as Suga was contemplating actually flat out asking him, Daichi reached out and wrapped calming fingers around Suga’s hand. “You don’t need to be so flustered.” Those chocolate brown irises were shining again and Suga suddenly couldn’t help but take every word that was coming out of those perfectly sculpted lips at face value. 

Daichi squeezed his hand gently, their skin warm and fitting together with surprising ease. “Remember Suga, everything is going to be perfect. I _promise_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mainly a Daisuga fic, but I will be adding other ships as we get things moving! 
> 
> _Friendly reminder: ___any reviews, kudos, and feedback are an author's lifeblood! Basically, I'd just love to hear from you (seriously anything at all) and I will be sure to respond with great and abundant love and appreciation!
> 
> *By the way, six hundred thousand yen is roughly $5,135 USD.


	2. Sorry For Being Sorry (And, In Advance, For Everything Else)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“So, Sawamura, what line of work are you in?”_

**** It wasn’t as though he’d never been on an eight hour international flight before. Usually he just read some cheesy romantic paperback or listened to music or allowed his mind to spiral into some sort of minor existential crisis. But Sugawara had _never_ been one to fall asleep on an airplane. 

So when he found his eyes peeling open and squinting against the faint orange glow of setting sunlight filtering through the partially shaded window he became, naturally so, very confused and disoriented. 

However, the most confusing part of it all was the solid, warm mass that was currently pillowing his head and slightly aching neck. 

Suga’s gaze slowly travelled left towards whatever it was that had been supporting his slumbering weight until his eyes landed upon a pair of kind, brown ones staring back at him. 

“Morning,” Daichi greeted through a grin, his hushed voice reverberating straight through the parts of Suga’s body still in contact with that surprisingly comfortable and accommodating shoulder he’d apparently (and completely mortifyingly) fallen asleep on. 

With that realization he found himself snapping back to reality, body jerking and head flying back to bump against the interior cabin wall with a painful thump. 

“Ow,” Suga muttered, eyes clenching shut and hand rubbing at the back of his head before meandering down to his sore, cramped neck. 

“Suga, are you alright?” Daichi sounded (adorably) concerned and so Suga cracked an eye open to catch the genuine little upwards quirk of his brows. 

“Yes, yes. I’m fine-” he managed to sit forward again, still rubbing at his neck. “It’s just- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to fall asleep-” he let out a flustered little laugh. “- _on you_.” 

Daichi let out a laugh of his own, but it didn’t sound nearly as disgusted as it aught to have, in Suga’s opinion. “It’s fine. Stress can be very draining on the body. You probably needed the rest.” 

And there it was, that none-too-gentle reminder that Suga was indeed quite stressed out because (at this very moment!) they were making their descent into Honolulu International. Also, that he was not fooling anyone, least of all Daichi, that he was perfectly at ease with the week long wedding extravaganza that they were about to embark on. 

Suga huffed a soft sigh and busied himself with fixing his watch to read the new, correct time, fiddling unsuccessfully with his sleep rumpled hair, and watching the turquoise edged coastline draw nearer and nearer as their plane circled for their incoming landing. 

* * *

First on the agenda was some sort of cocktail party at their final destination, The Kahala Hotel & Resort, the very one that Kuroo Tetsurou (Suga’s old college roommate, his best friend, and one of the grooms to be) had been working at since his abrupt, promotion-related move to the non-continental United States about two years ago.

So when he and Daichi had exited the plane and retrieved their luggage they’d both split off to change into something more appropriate for the night’s imminent festivities. However, Suga had underestimated the horrors that such a small and insignificant action could have on his already piqued anxiety levels. 

“ _Oh no_.” 

He found himself staring wide eyed at the cotton blue of Daichi’s dress shirt and then down at his own button-up boasting an array of consequently matching blue hued checks. It looked incredibly enough like they’d gone shopping together, like this had been an actual _choice_. It was a wonder that Daichi’s khakis were at least (thank heavens) an entirely different shade than his own. He gestured between them, but could not formulate the appropriate words to describe his sudden (and probably entirely stupid) conniption. 

“What?” Daichi titled his chin to study his choice in attire before looking back up at his apparent mirror with a shrug. “I think it’s sort of cute.”

Suga made a scoffing noise. “Cute is for describing puppies or five-year olds or elderly married couples that still hold hands.” He grabbed out to Daichi’s exposed forearm, nearly biting off his tongue at the feeling of firm muscle beneath his fingertips. “This- this is just a recipe for disaster.” 

Daichi shook his head and fitted Suga with a disbelieving look. “They’re not the _same_ shirt. No one will even notice.”

“You have to change.” Suga said definitively.

“I am _not_ changing,” Daichi shot back, just as firm if not more-so. “And neither are you, Suga. You look very attractive.”

There was that pesky blush attacking his cheeks again. “Attractive as in attractive? Or attractive as in ‘I was insane to let such a _very attractive_ guy go?’” 

“You’re worrying again,” Daichi chastised with a flicker of amusement. “Besides, aren’t we supposed to be an item?”

Suga realized he was still clutching the man’s arm in a vice-grip and peeled his hand away almost guiltily. “An item, yes,” he agreed. “But not some homosexual version of lovestruck teeny-bopper prom dates.” 

“Did you just use the term teeny-bopper?” Daichi was smirking at him, he could actually _feel_ it, but he decided emphatically _not_ to look. 

Suga groaned. “Come on, let’s go. You’re right, hopefully no one will notice.” 

* * *

As it turned out Daichi had been extremely mistaken.  _Everyone_ noticed.

When they’d entered The Kahala’s cordoned off lounge Suga had been immediately assaulted with friendly faces and voices he’d not been acquainted with for years.

“What a cute couple!” they said. 

“You look so in love,” others harped.

“Blue is definitely your color- both of you!” 

And, as fate would have it, they were now currently being cornered by one Nishinoya Yuu and his impressively booming voice that stemmed from such an impressively small body. 

“I wish Asahi would match with _me_ ,” he was pouting- _loudly_. “He’s such a boring old man! No fun!” 

At the moment said ‘boring old man,’ Azumane Asahi, was several feet away leaning against the bar to procure drinks for he and his loud-mouth, long-term boyfriend. He and Suga shared an equally commiserating look before he huffed back in a timid sounding voice, “Be nice, Yuu, please!” 

Nishinoya just shook his head with a laugh before turning his full attention back on the couple before him- or, more accurately, on Daichi. “So, your Suga’s new guy, huh?”

His voice had turned dangerous and Suga was just about to fling himself between the two before Noya could fully explode into over-protective friend mode, when Daichi actually managed to answer for himself. “That’s right, I’m Sawamura Daichi. It’s nice to finally meet some of Suga’s closest friends,” he said, with that broad smile of his, clamping a hand onto Noya’s own suddenly limp one. “He speaks so highly of you all.”

Suga watched Noya watching Daichi with that tilt to his head that made him sometimes look like a curious little bird. It took a moment, but as Asahi finally returned with drinks in hand, Noya spoke, directing his words towards Suga without breaking eye contact with Suga’s apparent _new guy_. “You actually speak _highly_ of us, Suga?” 

He let out a little sigh, relieved that that was what Noya was choosing to be surprised about. Asahi on the other hand was sounding just a bit mortified. “Why are you acting so surprised?” 

Noya turned to his boyfriend, his expression suddenly one of true naiveté. “I don’t know, he’s just usually the one _warning_ people about us!”

Suga chuckled, watching as Asahi’s eyes rolled weakly under a wrinkled brow. “Noya, I speak highly of you every chance I get, don’t you worry.” 

Nishinoya shot him a wide, appreciative grin and then, as if someone had flicked a switch, his vision snapped back to Daichi and his eyes narrowed to little slits. “You better not hurt this man, Sawamura Daichi.”

It looked almost as though Noya was raring to pounce, but a broad palm against his shoulder and a chastising glance from Suga seemed to corral his impulses into some kind of submission. 

While Asahi whispered something hushed into Noya’s ear, Suga managed to extricate he and his apparently fascinating date from his friend’s clutches and angle them in a direct beeline towards the inviting, full-service bar. 

“I’m sorry about Noya,” Suga said as he tried desperately to attract the attention of the bartender currently serving someone at the other end of the bar-top. 

“Don’t be,” Daichi replied with a quick shake of his head. “He seems like a good guy, looking out for you like that.” 

“Huh.” Suga tried to fight the faraway look he could feel coming onto his face at the very accurate sentiment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

As if to physically shake him from his sudden, personal epiphany Daichi’s right hand slipped around his waist and pulled their bodies closer than he’d ever prepared himself for them to become. And _woah_ did the man feel just as muscular as he’d been imagining him to be. 

“What are you doing?” Suga hissed, his body going rigid. He turned his head sharply only to be met with Daichi’s warm eyes gazing into his own, their noses practically brushing.

“What?” Daichi wondered, the picture of innocence.

Suga had to purposely bite at his tongue to get it to start functioning properly again. “Well- _people_ _are_ _watching_ ,” he muttered, eyes searching the room for any and all onlookers. 

“Isn’t that the point?” came the reply, warm against the shell of his ear. “We’re supposed to be _together_.” 

This argument was quickly turning utterly hopeless mainly because Suga couldn’t quite tell if Daichi was just messing with him or if he was, in fact, taking this job _entirely_ too seriously. He didn’t get much of a chance to contemplate more on the thought, however, as a familiar voice from his past filtered in from the space just behind them. 

“Koushi.” It was a feminine voice and the only person who called him by that name anymore was-

Suga spun around finding himself still attached to Daichi and dragging the unprepared man along with him. “Kiyoko!”

“Koushi, it’s so good to see you.” She embraced him with little hesitance as Suga managed to pry himself away from his date. But by the expression on her face and the little pats she gave to his back he could tell that something was amiss. 

Shimizu Kiyoko, beautiful as ever, pulled back and smiled something entirely empathetic and Suga felt a mask of blunt optimism rain over him. As much as he adored Kiyoko (he had ever since that one completely failed blind date they’d shared freshmen year at university) he certainly did not enjoy the idea of being treated like glass, no matter the circumstances. 

He turned halfway back towards the man next to him. “Kiyoko-”

“I’ve just come from talking with Oikawa,” she blurted out, still calm, but somehow suddenly sounding _very_ guilty. 

“-this is Sawamura Daichi. My _boyfriend_.” The term was heavy in his mouth and he pointedly ignored the sidelong glance of- was that actual _pride_?- that the man in question gave him.

The three of them stood there in the awkward silence that followed, so thick it was beginning to angrily swallow them whole. Kiyoko was trying to look anywhere but at Suga while Suga was trying to look anywhere but at Daichi. In his own right, Daichi just stood looking at the both of them, still unknowing but definitely suspicious. 

The bartender managed to save them (from themselves, really) by finally requesting their drink orders. Daichi ordered something with vodka that had Suga cringing but still cheerfully adding ‘make that two’ because somehow that seemed like the right thing to do. 

Kiyoko did not order anything because she rarely drank, if ever, and that realization had Suga thinking oddly to himself how the woman was ever going to manage making it through a week like _this_ without any form of liquid courage. 

As Suga came out of his momentary lapse in reality, it became apparent to him that Daichi was saying something (probably something _charming_ , ugh) to Kiyoko. He watched as Kiyoko ran pale fingers down the front of her navy blue dress and- seriously, she could not have possibly been blushing! No one made Kiyoko blush, except for maybe Suga himself!

But just as suddenly as the flush had come over her, it was gone from Kiyoko’s porcelain skin. There, that was better. Suga settled back against the bar, trying to get himself to relax and just enjoy the party and the good conversation and the friends he’d not seen in much too long. 

“So, Sawamura, what line of work are you in?” 

Suga nearly choked on his drink and managed to actually spill a little of it in the process. “Would you-” he coughed painfully, swiping at the new spot on his khakis before reaching out to clutch at Daichi’s wrist. “-excuse us for a moment, Kiyoko?” 

Without waiting for her response, Suga began dragging Daichi away from the bar as fast as he could without making more of a scene than they already had. He wasn’t certain, but he was pretty sure he could hear a tiny chuckle emanating from behind him as they dodged past a few people he was glad to not actually be acquainted with until his eyes spotted the coat-check near the lounge’s front entrance. 

Ducking through the doorway he forged his way past racks of coats, pulling this way and that with Daichi still in tow. Once he felt completely secure he spun to face a quiet little smirk and immediately scowled in defense.

“How did I not think of this sooner?” he hissed. “We need a story, a cover.” 

They were once again standing only inches from one another, but this time Suga was much more busy being flustered with other things than to bother being flustered (maybe just a little) by Daichi’s heat-yielding body. 

“Calm down. I’ll just tell people I’m a teacher or something.” Daichi shrugged.

Suga brought a finger to his chin, thinking. “Yeah, okay. I would date a teacher-” he nodded. “-that’s believable sounding, right?”

A warm rumbling rose from Daichi’s throat. “Of course. Now, would you quit worrying?”

With a ragged sigh Suga felt his shoulders slump and he shot Daichi a somewhat pleading look. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“And stop apologizing already,” Daichi demanded with a pointed brow. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Suga.”

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry-” he caught his lower lip between his teeth and struggled to meet Daichi’s eyes before gulping down his meager embarrassment at the slip. 

Daichi looked like he was struggling internally with his trembling, growing smile. He snorted a laugh. “You’re an odd one, Sugawara Koushi.”

What a vote of confidence! Suga found himself groaning (mentally he hoped) but then suddenly those strong arms were reaching out to him again as if in comfort. However, before they could make much contact Suga’s body was impulsively spinning itself away and he skittered backwards almost tripping over a rack of suit jackets. 

“That reminds me!” he announced, trying unsuccessfully to act as if his flailing was definitely on purpose. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a wad of bills neatly folded into a silver money clip and thrust it forward. 

Daichi stared at it quizzically for a moment before realization dawned on him and he took the proffered money with tentative fingers. “Uh- thanks,” he muttered. “But couldn’t this have waited until- I don’t know, somewhere a bit more private?” 

Suga shook his head vehemently. “No, no. I feel much better now that the transaction is complete.” 

Daichi nodded his understanding, but was still staring down at the money with an unreadable expression.

Why did he seem so awkward? Wasn’t this his _job_? Didn’t he do this all the time- take money from strangers to fulfill their fantasies of the perfect, most charismatic, most adorably handsome date? 

Suga screwed up his eyes and shook himself. “It’s all there, I promise.”

“I trust you.” Daichi pocketed the bundle. “I’ll cover any expenses, but if you’re looking for anything-” Suga tried not to watch as he visibly swallowed. “- _more_ , that will cost extra.” 

Suga blinked. More. _More?_

High pitched, uncomfortable laughter began to spill out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Th-that won’t be necessary,” Suga gasped out, trying to hide the burn of his cheeks by searching for the most immediate exit route available to him. 

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.” Daichi _was_ apparently trying to damage control however (though to no avail as Suga could barely even _think_ about what was trying to be said to him.) “I don’t mean to imply that you would _want_ anything more. Suga, are you listening to me?” 

Funny how things like mental filters could work perfectly one’s entire life, saving one from many many unfortunate instances of ‘foot in mouth syndrome,’ but then, when the mental filter seemed to be in its upmost time of need (more than any other godforsaken time in his life) it just suddenly _stopped working_. 

“Want anything more?” Suga’s laugh was a high little trill. “Who- who _wouldn’t_ want anything more with _you,_ Daichi? I mean, just _look_ at you.” 

As the words escaped his mouth Suga felt as though his lungs had started to take on water. He gasped and actually whined a little and bit his tongue a lot harder than necessary and then suddenly he was stumbling out of the coat-check room and headlong into a very firm, very tall, very _familiar_ body. 

“Suga-chan! You were just the man I was looking for.”

That voice had not changed and neither had his too-perfect smile and depthless, near-genuine mocha-brown eyes. Suga found himself breathing in a bit too sharply as he took in that immaculately tailored (and entirely too formal) suit and the way his body seemed to radiate a confidence that he’d always somewhat (secretly) envied. 

Wetting his lips, Suga looked up to meet that beaming expression, trying his best to not seem as though he’d just entirely humiliated himself in front of another incomprehensibly attractive man less than a moment before. 

Unfortunately, his voice still cracked a bit when he finally spoke. 

“Hello, Tooru.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your comments and reviews! I am so blown away by the love and support this story received in a matter of just a few hours. You guys ROCK! 
> 
> Seriously, I always get nervous about posting my work, but the outpouring of feedback and positive support makes me so giddy to keep writing and updating as quickly as I can. I hope this chapter did not disappoint!
> 
> EDIT: Holy crap you guys go look at this incredibly adorable [fanart](http://trashcatcloset.tumblr.com/post/145433220146/as-it-turned-out-daichi-had-been-extremely) so that you can scream about it with me!! (And follow and praise @trashcatcloset like there's no tomorrow, seriously all of their art is amazing!)


	3. Complicated & Overdue Reunions (But Mostly Just Complicated)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oh ho ho? Who’s the hunk?”_

**** Even though it hadn’t been _that_ long since the breakup (one year, nine months, three weeks, and two days- but who’s counting?) Suga was having a hard time remembering just how to act around Oikawa Tooru.

The man was nice in that sort of genial, attention-seeking way. He was not all that easily flustered and knew how to run a conversation in his favor. He was often brash and could be brutally honest without realizing the fault in it. He was very tall (nearly a head taller than Suga himself) and built with lean muscles that hung gracefully against his bones. He was sometimes too friendly, sometimes much too forward, but always seemed able to get his way in the end. 

Basically Suga’s ex-fiancé managed to be opposite from Suga in almost every way imaginable. He was still working on figuring out what kind of person that made Oikawa (and on that note, what kind of person that made _him_ ).

The one thing that Suga realized now, however, was that even though Oikawa was notorious for getting his way it seemed as though (judging by that cracking smile he’d plastered on face) when it came to Suga he had perhaps, for once, _not_. 

“Suga,” the man said again, his voice sounding a bit breathy. 

Oikawa held out his arms and, as if pulled in by some magnetic force, Suga found himself gravitating forward into the embrace. It was warm against Oikawa’s chest and he had to pointedly restrain himself from burrowing deeper into the familiarity of it. 

“You look wonderful, Suga-chan.” The compliment uttered in some kind of hushed, intimate tone, came from somewhere above his head but for some reason Suga couldn’t bring himself to look Oikawa in the eye just yet. 

They stood like that, connected for just a few seconds longer as Suga’s arms wrapped hesitantly around the man as if trying to ground himself in some way. When he finally pulled back he made the mistake of breathing in deeply the scent of spearmint and fresh soap which tipped him into an even deeper haze of thought.

This was not right. This was not how this was supposed to have happened. He’d been so nervous before, so concerned with seeing his ex, concerned with his ex seeing _him_ \- preferably in the arms of the man he’d just unloaded a good chunk of his savings account on. This was just _not right_. How dare Oikawa be able to do this to him- to turn him into a puddle of emotions and feelings and languid confusion! 

He stepped back, feeling a shockwave of frustration finally coming to his aid. He met Oikawa’s gaze, something sad about the way he was staring, and furrowed his brow ready to redeem himself-

“ _Su-ga-wa-raaa_!” 

Never in his life had he heard his name stretched into so many unnecessary syllables before. But also, never in his life had he been so content to be hearing the only voice that could manage to do such a thing in the first place.

One Bokuto Koutarou bounded up to them, all energy and smiles, barely managing to contain whatever pinkish hued drink he held in his square hand. “Suga, there you are, I’ve been looking all over!”

Suga cringed at the decibel. “You _have_?”

“Sure!” Bokuto’s arms swung wildly until his grinning head swiveled to meet Oikawa, the man looking a bit shell-shocked by their fellow groomsmen. “You don’t mind if I borrow him, do you?” Bokuto crooned, something very sharp-witted suddenly coming across his expression. 

Without waiting for any sort of answer Suga found himself being toted away and back towards the bar by a firm, but gentle hand wrapped about his bicep. 

“That wasn’t necessary,” Suga grumbled, even as he followed Bokuto’s lead with zero hesitation.

“I wasn’t saving you from _him_ , I was saving you from _yourself_ ,” he muttered out the side of his mouth. “You are _way_ too nice for your own good.” 

“I was handling it.” Bokuto let out a loud snort in response. Suga gave a dejected pout. “Well I was _going_ to handle it, but you interrupted.” 

“You can thank me later, Suga,” he skirted earnestly. Could it be that Bokuto was _actually_ sounding like the mature one here?

No, no, that could _not_ be. Definitely not because suddenly those large, golden eyes were growing even more owlish as he began to notice something directly behind Suga’s head. It took no more than two seconds for Bokuto’s odd composure to disintegrate and his proverbially childlike behavior to wash back over him in one big wave. 

“Akaashi!” he screeched, bowling past Suga and straight towards a shorter man with dark, silk-fine hair that curled at his neck and grey eyes flecked with green and something akin to patience. Even as Bokuto barreled towards him (at first seeming like he might actually jump straight into the smaller man’s unprepared arms) he kept a level expression save for the barely noticeable smile that graced his lips as muscular arms wrapped themselves around him, the body attached maneuvering until the newcomer was inescapably embraced from behind. 

“Hey, hey, Suga- you’ve got to meet my boyfriend,” Bokuto announced as he duck walked forward with the other man still trapped in his arms. 

Huh, _boyfriend_. That was new. Suga smiled as warmly as he could manage without outright apologizing on instinct for his friend’s behavior even if this _boyfriend_ had probably already experienced much, much worse. 

“Akaashi Keiji,” the man introduced himself, finally able to shrug Bokuto off and speak freely for himself. His voice held a calmness to it that made Suga feel at ease even as he begun to amusedly wonder just how these two opposites had ever come together in the first place. 

“Sugawara Koushi,” he replied before eyeing Bokuto, the man still radiating with energy all the way to the top of his intensely gelled two-tone hair. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone Bokuto.” 

Bokuto waved around in some semblance of a response. “Well, that’s because we never see you anymore Suga-chan!” 

Suga cringed impulsively at the nickname, but Bokuto nor his boyfriend seemed to notice. He wondered briefly if Oikawa would attempt to corral him again when suddenly reality hit him square in the chest. 

“Daichi!” he spit out, not really having meant to say it aloud, but also entirely ignoring the surprised looks from Akaashi and Bokuto at the outburst. Suga spun on his heel only to find himself colliding yet again with a solid, muscular body. 

But this time it was not mint or regret that assaulted his senses, but rather citrus and some kind of peppery aftershave. 

Suga looked up into laughing brown eyes and realized just a bit too late that in his stumbling haste he’d reached out to latch onto something and that something turned out to be Daichi’s very firm, very attractive upper arms. 

To make things even worse, as if in an act of chivalry Daichi had begun to wrap steady fingers around Suga’s own arms bringing his suddenly unstable body forwards into some sort of entirely romantic embrace. 

As it turned out, it quickly became something more awkward than romantic. 

“I’m sorry!” Suga burst out, pushing himself back and away with a harried expression.

Daichi (damn him) managed to keep a cooler head, giving a lopsided smile and whispering something so that only Suga could hear. “I thought you said you were going to stop apologizing for every little thing?” 

Suga could feel how pink his skin was burning (let’s face it, it was probably going to become a permanent condition after an entire week of _this_ ) and just when he thought things could not get any worse a loud and raucous voice heralded another voyeur to their little scene- someone he wasn’t entirely sure he was prepared for in his current state. 

“Oh ho ho? Who’s the hunk?”

“Kuroo!” Bokuto crowed with delight, even though he had undoubtably already seen him a dozen times since his arrival to the island. Kuroo met the leaping hug of affection with one of equal fervor, but still managed to get in a sideswiping grin towards the ‘hunk’ in question.

Trying desperately to save Daichi from an oncoming slew of possibly life-altering mortification, Suga stepped forward placing himself in between his suspiciously devious looking friend and his date. “He- he’s with me.” With a brief gesture backwards he continued. “This is Sawamura Daichi.”

“Ah-ha, so that’s why you were running late.” Kuroo winked at them and Suga felt his shoulders slump. “Just couldn’t wait, huh?” 

“Kuroo, this is _so_ not the time to be yourself,” Suga whined under his breath just as the taller man moved to embrace him in a lung-crushing squeeze.

“You love me,” Kuroo laughed into his ear. “Glad you could make it. Nice touch with the shirts.” As he turned his gaze Suga’s nose was tickled by the man’s proverbial bedhead and also the unfortunate mention of the obvious matching fiasco. “And Sawamura- glad to see someone’s stepped up to the plate for our little Sugawara here.” 

Bokuto gave a cheer of agreement only to have Akaashi shush him with a pointed glance. 

Trying not to flinch at the powerful slap to his back that landed just after the teasing words, Suga clenched his eyes shut and groaned. He’d expected maybe a few sarcastic remarks, but Kuroo Tetsurou always prided himself on going above and beyond his friend’s wildest of expectations. “Kuroo, please-”

“He hasn’t exactly been taken care of in a while- if you know what I mean.” As he abandoned the crushing hug Kuroo’s eyes flicked up and down Daichi’s body with an appreciative nod. “You look like just the man for the job too.”

Suga could feel his insides icing over and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Daichi for his reaction. “ _Kuroo!_ ”

“Kuro, enough already.” 

They all turned to see that a frowning Kozume Kenma had sidled up behind his partner, something entirely disapproving in his golden-eyed gaze. 

Kuroo rounded on him in one fluid motion with an entirely devilish look. “Fine. If I can’t flirt with him then I guess I’ll just have to channel my powers of seduction elsewhere.” With that (and all but ignoring the look of utter horror Kenma shot him) Kuroo charged forward, sweeping the shorter man up in his arms and spinning him around as his fiancé struggled to wrap arms around his neck and legs around his midsection. 

It was hard to tell, but Suga was pretty sure he could see the hint of a blushing smile appear on Kenma’s face from where he had it practically buried under Kuroo’s right ear as he clung to him.

Huh. It never ceased to amaze him just how seriously, genuinely in love those two actually were. It was kind of a beautiful thing to behold and Suga couldn’t quite fight down the butterflies that attacked his stomach at the thought. 

But then there was warm breath against his ear and a heavy hand on his shoulder and the butterflies turned violently into something else altogether. “I’m going to assume that they are the happy couple,” Daichi mused softly. 

Suga tried to come off as preoccupied by Kuroo and Kenma’s display rather than simply frozen like a deer in the headlights. But as he continued to watch the soon to be wed duo (now all feet safely back on the ground and speaking softly to one another), the way Bokuto’s arm snaked around his boyfriend’s waist, Akaashi’s slim fingers tracing patterns across the skin of his forearm and even in the distance Noya and Asahi again at the bar, the smaller practically sitting atop the larger’s lap- it all suddenly began to hit him.

It seemed that everyone here was in love but him. 

“I think I need another drink,” Suga blurted before he could reign in his sudden anxiety. He took in a sharp breath and finally turned to Daichi who was studying him closely, his hand still draped on his shoulder.

“I’ll get you one,” Daichi replied evenly with a single nod.

Suga was preparing to decline when the softer, less harsh voice of Kenma sounded from behind him attempting to get his attention. “Are you sure?” he hesitated. 

“Of course.” Another smile filled Daichi’s face and Suga was almost certain he could actually feel the warmth of it radiating off of his skin. With that the hand was gone from his shoulder and his feet were carrying him backwards to where Kenma and Kuroo were waiting for him. 

* * *

It was not as if Daichi had never been in precarious situations like this before. In fact, considering this had been his livelihood for the better part of nearly three years, he’d dealt with his fair share of emotions and attractions that accompanied such a profession. However, as a companion for hire (and only once _something_ _more_ \- a time he’d very much rather just forget completely about) he’d never come across someone entirely like the ray of nervous, flustered, totally endearing sunshine that was Sugawara Koushi.

Actually, in the past he’d mostly dealt with dates who drank a little too much, or events that required little interaction, and people that were simply using him as an effective place holder. But this newest assignment was quickly turning into something he felt very much ill-equipped for. Making an ex jealous? That was something he could do (and well too.) Making Suga realize that he shouldn’t be feeling like he needed to make his ex jealous in the first place? Now that was something different altogether. 

Daichi made his way to the bar unable to get the image of Suga’s pink cheeks out of his mind nor that cloying thought that he was just a transaction made to aid in- well, actually he wasn’t _quite_ certain- but at the moment it seemed as though he did truly want his ex back. 

Especially considering the length and ardor of the embrace they’d shared a few moments earlier as Daichi had watched (very guiltily) through a crack in the coat room doorway. 

“Sauvignon Blanc,” he told the bartender, deciding to ere on the side of wine rather than hard liquor seeing as how stirred up Suga already seemed to be. 

“Friend of the bride or groom?” came a sudden voice from behind just as he was handed a half-full glass of golden liquid. The tone was smooth and somewhat familiar.

“Shouldn’t it be _groom_ or groom?” Daichi replied with an inward chuckle as he turned to face whoever it was that had decided to strike up conversation with a complete and total stranger. And as he met those sparkling mocha eyes he realized abruptly just why the voice had seemed to strike a chord with him. 

_Tooru_. That was his name, that’s what Suga had addressed him as. He repeated it over again in his mind as he took in the man’s lean height, gracefully pursed lips and feathery hair. Tooru. He decided he didn’t much like it either. 

“Yes, you’re right, but that doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?” Tooru replied with a tight smile that had Daichi second guessing whether he’d hidden himself well enough during his earlier spying. 

“Ah- I’m here with one of Kuroo’s groomsmen,” Daichi said because he wasn’t exactly sure how best to proceed. 

Tooru nodded and his expression brightened. “Oh, you must be Bokuto’s new boyfriend.”

Daichi hesitated. Well this had certainly erupted into an uncomfortably ironic situation- uncomfortable for him and even more ironic for Tooru. “Er- no, I’m not.”

For a second Tooru’s face stayed neutral until some type of painful confusion ran over his sculpted features as he stared at Daichi like he suddenly had lobsters falling from his ears. 

“You’re not here with Koutaro.” And suddenly Tooru was frowning and furrowing his brows and his entire demeanor had grown into something oddly intimidating that had Daichi resisting the urge to duck and cover. “Then that means...”

* * *

“Where did you bag  _him_ ?” Kuroo muttered as Suga neared, very obviously skirting to stand closer to Kenma.

In turn, Kenma huffed out a sigh and spoke as though it were a chore to do so. “What he means to say is how did you two meet?” 

Kuroo nodded approvingly and set a genuinely interested gaze upon Suga, Kenma waiting for the answer from beneath a partial shroud of bleached hair. Suga found himself chewing on his bottom lip as he thought desperately to come up with something viable while also easy enough to relate back to Daichi if the question were to ever come up again (which no doubt it would.) Easier said than done; he’d never exactly been the best at fibbing. 

Suga had known Kuroo and Kenma a long time now. He and Kuroo had been roommates at university for nearly three years and with Kuroo, there had always been Kenma (and that had been _before_ they’d even started dating.) And though Kenma had preferred a more solitary lifestyle, he’d often come to visit their dorm and then in the later years their apartment and through all of that time Suga had grown just as close with him as he had with Kuroo (and not to mention Bokuto, but that was really a whole other can of worms). So now, staring at the both of them as they awaited his answer he had the undeniable urge to just tell them the truth, explain to them that he did not, in fact, have some sort of perfect romance, and had not been completely and totally confident in coming to their wedding. 

But instead he said with a tight little smile, “At the airport. We met at the airport. His flight got cancelled and- well, we got to talking- and that’s pretty much it.” 

There was a brief and terrifying moment where Suga thought for sure the two were going to see straight through him. But then Kuroo grinned and Kenma nodded and Suga felt the pit in his stomach start to slowly diminish. 

“Well, he seems like a good guy,” Kuroo said with a less provocative smirk. Suga let out a soft laugh; there was the other Kuroo he knew, the kind and astute man he’d been missing so much since his move to the islands. 

Suga shook the saddening thought from his mind and flashed a smile. “How do you know that? You’ve not even talked to him.” 

He noticed then that both Kenma and Kuroo’s vision had drifted past him, just over his shoulder. “Okay, for starters he’s talking to Oikawa right now and he hasn’t made one move to punch him in the face yet.”

Suga’s neck nearly snapped with the force at which he spun his gaze to yes (so unfortunately yes) see Daichi locked into some kind of bizarrely complacent looking chatter with one Oikawa Tooru, the latter leaning against the bar though lacking that air of confidence and instead holding an infamous scowl on his features. 

“That’s good self-control. Unless you haven’t-” Kuroo mocked a gasp. “Suga, you _have_ told him about Oikawa haven’t you?”

But Suga was already gone, barely hearing Kuroo’s teasing words, and instead focussing all of his attentions and energy into one horrifyingly stomach-churning endeavor of necessity. 

He had his eyes set dead center on the profile of Daichi’s square jaw and as he approached, nearly tripping over his quickly moving feet, he could hear Tooru muttering “-you’re here with Suga-chan.” 

And then, one heartbeat later and no-going back, Suga threw wild arms around Daichi’s neck and smashed their lips together without pretense. 

He thought maybe he heard a gasp emanating from next to them and shortly after some kind of cheer from across the bar that sounded entirely like Noya’s voice just before Asahi presumably slapped a hand across his mouth. 

But Suga couldn’t even begin to comprehend either of those things because suddenly his lips were opening automatically. Suddenly his impetuous tongue was darting out to test the boundaries. Suddenly he was being graced with the relieving sensation of heat and friction and reciprocation. 

Suddenly he was _kissing Sawamura Daichi_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And here we go..._
> 
>  
> 
>    
> Also, an introduction into Daichi's point of view on things, hurray! I'll be adding more of his perspective in later chapters as well. 
> 
> THANK YOU to all who comment, leave kudos, and just simply read this story. I will continue to be overwhelmed by your kind words and support. Truly, I am amazed not only by the readership, but also by how much I am already wholly invested and devoted to this work. I can't wait to show you what is to come!
> 
>  
> 
> P.S.- come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://h-lovely.tumblr.com/) if you're so inclined


	4. Distractions, Exes, & King Sized Beds (Just To Name a Few)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Go on, I don’t embarrass easily. It’s a part of the package after all, isn’t it?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's this early because I'm going to be gone all weekend belatedly celebrating my birthday (I'll make a wish for Mattsun and Yahaba too- yay 03.01 birthday babes!) Also, friendly warning: lots more blushing and sputtering ahead (for all of us). Enjoy.

“Suga.”

Someone was saying his name. He couldn’t quite be sure how loud or with what inflection it was being said because for the past few seconds (or could it have already been minutes?) his mind had been wholly and completely _preoccupied_ by something else altogether.

“Suga- _chan_.”

There it was again, that nagging realization that he was being addressed, that he was needed by someone. But just as his mind was beginning to naturally pull away from the utterly blissful distraction, the kiss deepened, a tongue twining against his and his muscles slackened under warm fingers that found a resting place at his hips.

Daichi licked at his lower lip while Suga’s fingers brushed along the taught muscles of forearms that currently fought to tug him closer. He felt his mouth curve upward into a smile and Daichi let out a little gasp at the added sensation the movement provided.

It was almost as though his spoken name had not been a prompt to stop, but rather had been a sign to proceed further. 

“Sugawara!”

And then suddenly, all too suddenly he recognized the tone. One of forceful annoyance, almost manic and sounding quite familiar all of a sudden.

In the end it was not Suga who broke the kiss, but Daichi, pulling back with a soft smirk and flushed cheeks that had Suga’s heart fluttering uncomfortably in his chest. His eyes flashed wide for a second as the realization of the act he’d just committed slammed him full force in the gut, but Daichi caught him evenly before he could panic placing a steadying hand against his shoulder and angling his gaze ever-slightly towards the body from which that too-familiar voice had been emanating. 

Oh yes. He remembered now. 

“Tooru.” Suga’s eyes flicked towards the man observing them with something akin to curiosity. It was almost painful for him to remove his vision from Daichi as his head still swam, was still unstable from the acute rush of blood due to the impulsive and prolonged and totally unforeseen bout of kissing that he wasn’t able to really focus until a tight (and also too-familiar) smile graced Oikawa’s lips. 

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?” he wondered expectantly, gaze shifting to Daichi with clinical precision. 

Suga managed to hold back his gape at Oikawa’s obvious tone. But, was it sincere condescension there? Or could it be that he was actually (truly astonishingly) _uncomfortable_?

Daichi relinquished the grasp he’d still managed to have on his waist, moving so that he was still naturally close to Suga, but not entrapping him in any sort of display of commitment anymore. 

Suga’s hips felt suddenly very cold. He nodded once as if out of necessity and then said as calmly as he could fabricate, “This is Sawamura Daichi.” His hand flicked obligatorily between them. “Daichi, this is Oikawa Tooru-” Suga blinked twice at nothing in particular. “-my _ex_.” 

The word, that tiny little prefix, hung in the air like thick, choking humidity after an afternoon rainstorm. Suga tried licking at his lips but his mouth had ran so painfully dry that it did nothing other than make him feel entirely more horrendous about the whole situation. 

His eyes finally found Daichi beside him, the man looking rigid but not as uneasy as he probably ought to have been. On the other hand, when his gaze found Tooru once more his earlier suspicions had been proven correct- he suddenly looked stricken with an edge of insecurity that Suga was not sure he had ever witnessed before. 

He shouldn’t have said anything. Daichi seemed like a smart guy, he would have riddled it out on his own easy enough. He should have left it at a simple introduction. He should have left out any and all personal, unnecessary, detrimental reminders of the past. Dammit, he should have thought this all through! If for no other reason than to have avoided the fact that his own stomach was clenching at this outpouring of realization and the still warm memory of Daichi’s lips on his own. 

But he didn’t have much more time to continue down his spiral of internal regret and rambling guilt as Oikawa’s honeyed voice, sounding somewhat more grounded now, rang through his ears. “It’s a pleasure,” he said.

Suga watched him for any signs of counterfeit, but his eyes were clear and his smile had softened and (he realized almost too late) Tooru was staring not at Daichi, but directly at _him_. 

“Hey, Oikawa!” And that’s when everything came tumbling back down to reality.“I have important, wedding-type stuff to discuss with you.” 

Kuroo was striding towards them, sans Kenma, and looking as knowing as if he’d been a fly on Suga’s shoulder during the entire (albeit short) encounter.

“Oh, then Suga-chan can join us,” Oikawa hummed with sudden brightness in his tone. 

“Nah, we can handle it.” Kuroo waved the idea off, but did nothing to portray that Oikawa had been in the wrong to suggest it. “Suga hasn’t even had a chance to see his room, have you, _Suga-chan_?” 

Holding back a cringe, he nodded feebly watching as Oikawa’s hopefulness turned to sulking in a matter of seconds. Suga chewed at his bottom lip, unsure of how exactly to proceed. “Yes, yes it’s been a long day. I’m sure you can understand the jet lag, Tooru.” 

“Go on, go on. No one’s stopping you.” Suddenly Kuroo was behind the pair, wrapping long arms around both their shoulders and guiding them towards the lounge’s entrance. There was definitely something conspiring in his tone that had Suga cringing yet again, this time not able to rein it in. 

“We’ll catch up tomorrow.” That had been Oikawa’s voice trailing after them, but something about it had changed, it had darkened and Suga wasn’t sure he was at all prepared for anymore interactions of this magnitude seeing as things could most likely only get worse from here on out. 

Not needing much more persuading, the two meandered back through the expansive lobby and toward a bank of elevators. But the silence accompanying them couldn’t help but make Suga feel a little prickly about the entire evening and how it had played out in such an unfortunate manner. _This_ had not been at all what he had been planning. 

“What is it with people constantly trying to save me like some kind of damsel in distress?” he muttered, not quite stomping but definitely fighting off the urge to do so. 

Daichi looked as though he might be suppressing a grin. “What was that?”

Suga pretended to ignore him, but as that voice reverberated straight through the bones of his ribcage he was finding that it was becoming an increasingly difficult task to execute.

* * *

On the elevator ride up to their room on the eighth floor the sharp remembrance of the inescapable ‘insert-foot-in-mouth’ scenario he’d initiated earlier in the coat closet assaulted him like a burning iron through his already unstable stomach. The word  _more_ played over and over in his mind, the look of regret that poured over Daichi’s features as Suga’s mouth had spilled out that tiny, uncomfortable bout of laughter, the sensation of lung collapsing free-fall he’d experienced right before he’d made his ill-timed escape.

All of a sudden he wasn’t feeling so entirely negative anymore, but instead (and not necessarily preferably) he felt that wave of uncertainty heating beneath his skin.

Glancing as lightly to his left as possible he spied Daichi from the corner of his eyes, searching for anything that might’ve changed in the man’s demeanor since the _transaction_ (stupid, stupid, he should have never called it that!) had been completed. 

But, there was nothing there that hadn’t been there before, save for perhaps a still fresh flush from the overly-unnecessary and probably entirely shameful display of passionate affection he’d been forced by Suga to endure moments before. Huh. Suga pursed his lips; would that be considered something of the ‘more’ category? He discreetly felt for his wallet, wondering how much extra cash he still had available to him. 

“He seemed nice,” Daichi mused quietly from beside him, interrupting his internal rampage of overreaction. “Though a little taken-aback I think.”

“Hm?” Suga’s fingers had subconsciously found their way into his pocket, now actually grasping at his wallet in preparation. But then his brows screwed up and he turned back to Daichi, unsure. “Taken-aback?”

“Oikawa-san,” Daichi said in clarity. “He didn’t know you were bringing someone here- to the wedding?” 

Oh, right. That did seem like the more appropriate conversation to be holding right now, didn’t it? The elevator dinged their arrival, opening slowly to reveal warm wood-carved palm fronds decorating the cream-toned hall. 

Suga stepped out first, Daichi following closely, but predictably not as close as he would have if others had been observing. Shaking his head, Suga answered, “No, not exactly.” 

“Well, whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish, I’d say it’s working.” As they neared their room Daichi pulled out his key-card and swept in front of Suga to open the door for him. 

Suga (fighting back a swoon, dammit) nodded in thanks once the door swung open and crossed the threshold while simultaneously trying to string together some sort of appropriate response. In the end, he came up empty. “It’s working?” he pondered instead, curious to see what Daichi would have to say about the matter he’d found himself surreptitiously stuck in the middle of. 

The room was not small, nor huge, but quite comfortable. There was a balcony hidden partially by some thin curtains that Suga had the sudden, cloying urge to pull back in one fluid motion. There was also a large four poster bed that anchored the entire room with it’s cherry wood, fluffy white duvet, and the romantic billowing fabric that spilled from the overhead beams like silken clouds. 

Uh oh. He’d not given this scenario much thought. _More_. Sleeping in this bed together, was that considered _more_? Daichi laid a soothing hand against his shoulder blade, as if he’d been reading Suga’s mind. “I’ll take the couch,” he offered easily.

Gaze flicking towards the small, leather love-seat that sat adjacent to the bed Suga grimaced. “You can’t sleep on that, it’s like half your size.” 

“I’ll be fine.” Daichi waved him off, heading towards the suitcases that had been previously brought to the room upon their arrival. “I’ve slept on worse.”

“No, absolutely not. I won’t allow it.” Suga folded adamant arms over his chest. Where the hell was this coming from? Was this a sign that deep down Suga truly _wanted_ to share that big, comfy king size with this gorgeous man? Or was it really just his kind, empathetic nature rearing its annoying head? 

Daichi stared at him, suspicious. “I won’t fight you on this, Suga. But I want you to feel comfortable.” 

“I am comfortable, really.” (He was not, really.) “Kuroo and I shared a bed once over a summer holiday- it was fine!” It hadn’t actually been ‘fine’ per se, Kuroo was a very restless sleeper, not to mention the snoring, but that really wasn’t relevant information to share at the current moment. 

Daichi fit him with a near-scowl, as if he were preparing his next argument. ( _Please don’t say ‘that’s different,’ please don’t say ‘that’s different.’)_ “That’s a little different, Suga.” 

Bullshit, how did he keep doing that? Suga’s shoulders slumped and he walked closer to the bed, letting fingers trail against the feather soft pillows before perching on the edge and looking back to Daichi with an entirely serious expression. “It’s fine, honestly.” He shrugged. “It’s a big bed.” 

And while that was the upmost truth, it appeared that Daichi still did not fully believe him, but was going to let it go for now, thankfully. Suga let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

In the absence of conversation Daichi set to work maneuvering his suitcase and pulling out certain garments to be hung in the small hallway closet. Suga watched, realizing that he should probably start doing the same, but really not feeling up for any domesticity at the moment. Daichi was hanging some crisp, charcoal slacks when Suga decided to interrupt the silence. 

“You never answered my question,” he started, scooting his body into a more comfortable position, criss-crossing his legs and sitting back against the pillows. “What’s working?” 

Daichi looked as though he might not answer, so ingrained as he was with his unpacking. But then, perhaps after a moment of quiet contemplation, he said, “You want to make him rue the day he ever broke up with you, right?”

“Don’t make it sound so dramatic.” Suga bit at his tongue for the impulsivity of his response, but he could see the pleased grin the sentiment had caused on Daichi’s lips. He swallowed, averting his eyes, then added, “Er- you think it’s working?”

“I don’t know him like you do of course, but-” his broad shoulders shrugged and he faced Suga head-on. “-it seemed to me that Oikawa is still very much interested in you.” 

The words trickled into Suga’s mind like molasses, making his head start to ache once they’d fully settled in. He blinked several times in rapid succession, finding the fingers he’d intertwined in his lap suddenly quite fascinating. 

That’s what he wanted right? That was his objective. He’d used up a good chunk of his life savings to hire someone to force the situation in his favor. This is what he wanted- _wasn’t it?_

“If you don’t mind my asking,” the softness of Daichi’s voice pulled his gaze back up into the conversation. “Why is Oikawa in the wedding? I mean if he’s your ex and you and Kuroo are close-” he trailed off in implication, as if not entirely sure whether it was prudent to actually voice the rest of his innocent concern. 

Suga managed a chuckle at the eggshells apparently scattered at Daichi’s feet. “Kuroo’s actually the one who set us up together in the first place,” he explained, trying his best not to let the sadness welling in his throat come through his words. “They’ve known each other since high school. They go back farther than Kuroo and I do- if anything it should have been me that wasn’t asked to be a part of the wedding.” 

He watched Daichi’s expression turn to one of regret and immediately brightened in an attempt to lighten the unanticipated mood. He pulled his lips into a smile in hopes of letting Daichi understand that he really wasn’t that bothered by his curiosity. It _was_ the truth, after all. 

“I guess you can’t please everybody,” he breathed out lightly. “I mean it is Kuroo and Kenma’s day after all, not mine and Tooru’s.” And then immediately Suga felt his tongue retreat to the back of his throat, wishing he could pull the words back in with it. His remorseful giggle was high pitched. “Ah- that came out wrong.” 

Daichi shot him a forgiving laugh in response (at least now they were even.) “I know what you mean, Suga.” 

Still fighting back his fit of embarrassment, Suga nodded hesitantly. “Sorry-” Daichi shot him a powerful glare, only just counter-balanced by the trembling smirk that was resting on the precipice of his lips. Suga raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I’m trying!” 

Shaking his head, mock anger finally breaking into genuine amusement, Daichi began unbuttoning his shirt with relaxed fingers. 

The tan skin of his chest melted quickly into view with each button undone and Suga was fairly certain that, stock still has he’d become, if he didn’t do something quickly _he_ was going to come undone himself. 

Willing his muscles to respond, Suga spluttered. “W-what are you doing?”

Daichi looked up in question, his fingers stilling momentarily as he took in the wide, hazel eyes staring in unapologetic awe. But then, with a wry look of understanding, he set to work opening his shirt at an accelerated pace. “I’m going to shower. Is that alright?”

At some point between the sixth and seventh button and the exposure of a hard, smooth abdomen Suga’s hands had meandered up over his face at their own accord. And, as if to top things off, his own voice betrayed him with a soft whine he’d not at all authorized. 

“Suga.” Daichi’s laugh sounded full-bodied and entirely devastating. “Go on, I don’t embarrass easily. It’s a part of the package after all, isn’t it?”

Suga let out another little whimper, peeking out between his pinky and ring finger.Daichi had started at his belt now, the clasp tinkling in the abrupt, blaring silence. His voice sounded manic as he let out another painful giggle. 

Daichi’s smirk only grew at the reaction, something prideful there but also something a little affectionate too. Suga braced himself, clenching his eyes shut before opening them again with a rushed breath of air before clearing his throat. “I think I’ll check out the view.” 

_The other view,_ he mentally snickered without pretense. He wasn’t positive, but by the way Daichi’s eyes shone he thought perhaps that the man truly was a mind-reader. 

With a little bounce Suga slid from the bed and bypassed his half-naked date with only one fleeting glance (okay, okay, maybe _two_ ) before he made his way towards the curtained balcony, pulling at the drapes and stepping out into the humid evening air without another look back. 

Suga placed unsteady hands against the balcony’s railing letting his eyes travel to the white sands obscured by nighttime and the way the moonlight created patterns of reflection and light on the ebbing water below. He felt a chill run over him that had absolutely nothing to do with the cool breeze coming in off of the ocean. 

This was not good. Why hadn’t he thought about these types of consequences when he’d hired a professional charmer to be his date in the first place? And it wasn’t as though the man could just turn it off- Daichi was clearly _naturally_ charming and even if he’d dialed it back a little bit, Suga wasn’t quite sure how he was going to go a whole week like this. 

So yes, that made him the _perfect_ person to get Tooru to think twice about what he’d done, but- _but_ suddenly things were growing much more complicated than Suga could ever have anticipated.

Suga breathed once, twice through his nose letting the salty air in before letting out a single, ragged sigh and physically shaking himself from whatever odd place he’d let himself sink to. Then, with a confident nod at nothing in particular, Suga turned on his heel and marched back into the room sliding the glass door closed behind him. 

The shower was running and he could hear it clearly because the door to the bathroom had been left just slightly ajar, a crack in the privacy it was supposed to provide. Suga found himself staring at it, eyes glued to the tiny sliver of granite tile and rosewood vanity and wondering, very fixedly, if this had been _deliberate_. 

He swallowed, gulping down the new thoughts that had non-too-politely invaded his mind at the idea. 

Feet moving with little provocation, Suga found himself nearing the barely open door, levels of curiosity and courage becoming entirely blunt in their attack on his subconscious. 

As he neared the bathroom he angled his body, eyes sweeping across a floral bathmat to the glass encased shower, steam radiating over the top of the doors, the spray creating patterns against entirely transparent walls. 

Water clung to golden flesh, trailing down shoulders, along the sharp line of Daichi’s spine, pooling across the prominent dimples of his lower back, and down to his _ass_. 

_Oh!_ Suga pulled back with a little gasp, a hand slapping over his lips to muffle the shameful reaction.

_It’s a part of the package after all, isn’t it?_

Scurrying to his suit case, Suga’s fingers were shaking as he searched frantically for the cotton pajamas he’d packed, changing as quickly as he could manage without making too much noise. Using the auxiliary vanity in the bedroom he scrubbed furiously at his teeth, splashing icy water across his face in hopes of cooling the burn emanating from beneath his skin. Then he was flinging back the bedcovers and burrowing into them as he tried to fight back the realization that this had probably (definitely) been a very terrible idea. 

Suga sighed scrunching his eyes closed and trying desperately not to picture Daichi’s naked (and damn near perfect!) body in his too-accurate memory. 

Too late, there it was. 

Oh god. He was so totally screwed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I will promise (in advance) that Oikawa is not a quote-on-quote _"bad guy"_ here. Trust me, I've got a soft spot in a major way for the kid and he deserves happiness along with everyone else in this story! So, with that being said, he's also not perfect and (as we all know and love) can sometimes be a bit of a trouble-maker (to put it nicely.) I'll just leave it at that for now.
> 
> On another note, I will continue to thank you after each and every chapter for your support- you have _no idea_ how much it means to me. I love and appreciate you all! 
> 
> Also, come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://h-lovely.tumblr.com/)


	5. How You Like Me Now? (Or, How To Win At 'Pretend Boyfriend')

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I must warn you, we tend to get a bit competitive.”_

**** The next morning (after a night filled with tooth-achingly pleasant dreams) Suga found himself waking up to an empty bed. It caused quite the internal struggle between being _delighted_ that he hadn’t been greeted with Daichi’s shirtless body again, but also being _devastated_ that he hadn’t been greeted with Daichi’s shirtless body again. 

It didn’t take long for him to find out just where his obligatory roommate had gone off to as he slipped out of bed and towards his suitcase trying not to alert the (thankfully clothed) man leaning against the railing of their balcony, presumably enjoying the morning’s pink tinge that ran along the entire expanse of their spectacular view. 

Suga observed him through the glass from the edge of his vision as he swapped out his pajamas (the embarrassingly cute ones decorated with little shrimps and sashimi) for a pair of lilac shorts and a white t-shirt. 

He turned back just in time to see Daichi sliding open the patio door. “Good morning,” he greeted pleasantly.

“Morning,” Suga said in kind as he took in Daichi’s appearance. Clean shaven and dressed in well-loved cargo shorts and a tight-fitting black shirt harboring an emblem of what looked like a crow across his chest. 

Suga looked back down at his own choice in clothing, entirely opposite than that of Daichi’s, but before he had the chance to overthink and pull something different from his suitcase that deep voice interrupted his thoughts again. 

“I’m glad you’re up. I thought maybe we could get some breakfast together?” Daichi wondered, looking to the floor in search of his sandals. 

Nodding even though the man wasn’t watching, Suga responded in probably more surprise than he aught to have. “Oh, of course! That sounds lovely.” 

_Lovely_. Well it _did_ sound lovely, but he definitely shouldn’t have phrased it like _that_. But amidst his internal chastising, Daichi swept past him and to the room’s front door with a pleasant expression, as if Suga could have said _anything_ and he wouldn’t have been at all bothered. 

So brushing off his nonsensical concern, Suga trailed after him. 

Just off the hotel’s lobby was a quiet little restaurant that offered breakfast for its guests. The floor to ceiling views of the surrounding decks and white sand beach along with the mahogany carved tables and warmly patterned chairs gave the impression of a perfect place to share an intimate meal. But as the two entered side by side in search of an open table, the sight of a lone figure hunched low over a game console alerted Suga to his friend’s presence.

Opening his mouth he turned to Daichi, but the man had clearly followed his gaze and was already meeting him in a soft agreement. “Should we see if he’d like some company?” 

Suga wanted to beam at how easily the man had read him and also for his astute kindness, even if it meant giving up any privacy he might have been hoping for earlier. 

Walking towards the table, Suga took the lead placing a palm against the chair opposite Kenma before speaking. “Mind if we join?”

Hair flowing back off his face for a moment, Kenma looked up mouth pinched as though preparing to decline with little hesitance, but then (perhaps upon seeing who exactly had been asking) he shook his head once and tucked away his game in favor of wrapping fingers around the cobalt mug steaming in front of him. 

A bored looking waitress came then to ask if they’d like to start with coffee or tea (one cream for Daichi and oolong for Suga.) It took a few moments of obligatory small talk for the drinks to arrive and their orders to be placed, but then Suga scanned the rest of the dining room to find it quite surprisingly empty.

“Where’s Kuroo?” he wondered.

“He’s off with Koutarou and-” Kenma hesitated for the briefest of seconds. “-and Tooru. They’re trying to recruit people for a match.”

“A match?” Daichi wondered from next to him, coffee cup resting at the edge of his lips.

Suga turned to him softly. “Volleyball,” he explained. “They used to play in high school- different teams, but that’s how the three of them became close.” His eyes drifted back to the golden ones watching them from across the table. “Oh and you too, right Kenma?” 

In turn, Kenma barely acknowledged the statement, saying softly, “I don’t play anymore. That’s why I’m warning you. They’ll be after you soon enough-”

“Kenma! Why don’t you wanna play? It’s just for fun!” The voice that rang out over Daichi and Suga’s heads was filled with a bubbly excitement that neither recognized from the evening before. Both men turned just in time to see a blur of fire-like orange flashing past them and into the seat next to Kenma. 

“They want to play three-on-three. In the sand,” Kenma drawled as if by way of reasonable explanation and then turned towards the red headed newcomer with raised brows. “Shouyou, have you met Sugawara and Sawamura yet?” 

It served as an easy enough change of subject for the groom-to-be as Hinata channeled all of his attention towards the two men across the table from him, giving them a wide-eyed look as though he’d not even registered their presence until now. 

“Oh, hi!” He gave a frantic wave looking a little flustered by his reaction. “I’m Hinata Shouyou, best man.”

“You don’t have to introduce yourself like that every time,” Kenma grumbled from beside him, but it didn’t seem to faze the redhead in anyway at all, his grin still beaming with pride.

Suga shot Daichi an amused smile before giving his own wave, fingers waggling in a friendly manner. “This is Daichi and I’m Suga,” he offered by way of skipping over formalities. “Do you play volleyball too, Hinata?” 

The response he got was a wild bob of orange hair and a toothy grin that abruptly faded into something a little introspective. “Well, actually I don’t play so much like I used to,” he said, looking saddened by the thought until (quite suddenly) he brightened again. “But I _watch_ it nearly every single day!”

Suga quirked a brow in curiosity, but Kenma beat him to the punch explaining in a hassled way, “Shouyou coaches a youth team.”

Ah, now it made sense. Both Daichi and Suga gave a nod of understanding, in pleasantly unexpected tandem. “That must be a fun job,” Suga offered lightly, trying to catch Kenma’s eyes before he retreated back to studying the apparently fascinating woodgrain of the tabletop.

Hinata’s head continued its nod from earlier. “It’s loads of fun! But I _finally_ get to actually play today! Even if it is _beach_ volleyball.” The shorter man was practically glowing. “Have _you_ ever played beach volleyball, Suga-san?” 

Suga hadn't exactly been prepared for the question, but he shook his head at the expectant Hinata. “No, I’ve never played in the sand before, but I do enjoy volleyball.” _Probably not as much as you though,_ he added laughably to himself. 

“Then you’ll play with us?!” In all his sudden excitement Hinata had bolted upright from his seat. 

Meeting Daichi’s eyes again he searched for an excuse, but those brown orbs did nothing but smile back at him in (definitely _knowing_ ) innocence. Looking back to Hinata he felt his lips start to quirk downwards. “Well- I don’t know-”

“We could always just watch,” Daichi added in a tone that Suga couldn't quite figure for either innocently content or conspiringly devious. 

“Great, meet us at the beach in half an hour? Now I’ve gotta go do more recruiting.” Hinata bounced a little at the prospect. “Kenma, you’re _sure_ you won’t play?”

“Quite positive,” Kenma replied with a dull glance at his fingernails. “But I’ll come with you.” He stood and nodded slightly towards the couple across from him and then turned to follow the man now skipping through the restaurant’s lobby. 

Suga watched them retreat, a funny feeling settling over him about a certain seemingly harmless Kozume Kenma that spurred on a slightly distrustful smirk when Daichi’s voice came slinking into his thoughts again.

“So, volleyball huh?”

Suga turned to him with a soft smile. “I dabbled in an intramural league at university, but it’s been quite a while.” He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, trying not to giggle at his own dramatics. “What, are you _surprised_?”

Daichi met the jab with an approving grin. “No, not at all. I’m just realizing that I really don’t know anything at all about you, Sugawara Koushi.”

There was a moment of hesitation where a warmth began to filter into his chest, a familiar sensation as of late. Suga could feel his blood pressure rising and the longer he stared at that strong jaw and those kind, round eyes he knew the longer it was going to take for him to compose himself. 

So averting his vision he quirked his lips a bit crookedly. “Well- I suppose we can change that,” he whispered, peeking back up through a silvery fringe (self-preservation forgotten.) “If you like?”

“Mm, yes.” Daichi’s features softened appreciatively. “I think I would like that.”

* * *

All memory of the night previous (save for one small, terribly  _insignificant_ image Suga was allowing himself to keep tucked away for a rainy day) had disappeared as the two shared bits and pieces of meaningless, trivial information about themselves over scrambled eggs, fried ham, and toast.

For instance, Daichi’s favorite color was orange (which Suga felt quite suited his personality.) And Suga shared that he was allergic to mango, while Daichi could not stand anchovies. Daichi had one sister, younger by ten years and Suga was an only child, but in turn had twelve older cousins. Daichi was a morning person, while Suga was a night-owl.

It wasn’t until Daichi pointed out some sort of commotion he could see taking place on what beach they could see from the restaurant’s accommodating windows that they realized they’d been talking non-stop (about _nothing,_ mind you) for nearly thirty-minutes straight. 

And when the bill came and Daichi insisted, Suga had to pointedly remind himself of their conversation and that thick roll of bills in the coat closet the evening before. Breakfast was an _expense_. This was _not_ a date. This was not even remotely _real_. Or, at least- well, Suga didn’t really want to think more about all that anyways. 

They’d just made their way onto the hotel’s beach access deck when a familiar face came bounding up to them.

“Suga! There you are.” Bokuto’s thick brows shot up with his friendly expression.“C’mon, Kenma said you’d play.”

“Oh he did, did he?” Suga’s brows furrowed, reminding himself to have a word with the apparently not so quiet and innocent man upon their next encounter. He just _knew_ something had been up his sleeve. “At least let me change first.”

“You can play in that! Hurry, the others are waiting for us.” Bokuto was literally jumping from one foot to the other like an overstimulated five-year old in a toy store. “Daichi, you’re gonna play too, yeah?”

Daichi’s shoulders raised with a chuckle, “Sure, why not?” But before he could say anything more Suga was grinding an elbow into his side.

“You know, you don’t have to,” he murmured from the corner of his mouth, eyeing Bokuto distrustfully now. 

“Yeah, I know.” Daichi quirked a brow at him. “Suga, you’re-”

“Worrying again. Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Suga shot back rubbing a hand over his mouth and jaw. “I still think I aught to change.”

He was getting ready to about-face and hightail it back to their room when a firm hand found the small of his back, guiding him gently forward in pursuit of the practically bouncing mass of energy that was Bokuto Koutarou. 

“No you don’t,” he said. “Besides, I like what you’re wearing.”

Suga tried not to pout as he was pushed forward. “You can cut it out with the flattery, Daichi. There’s no one around to hear you.” 

Instantly two strong hands wrapped themselves around his biceps, not painful but definitely grounding to the point that the touch startled Suga into a gasp. Daichi physically turned him so that Suga was directly facing him, directly staring into eyes that, seconds before, had glowed with pleasantry but now held something much more serious within their dark depths. 

“Alright Suga, let’s get something straight here.” Daichi’s voice was both quiet and low, rumbling and still hushed enough that Bokuto wouldn’t be able to hear. “When I compliment you I am doing so because I really believe you look wonderful. It’s not a part of the act. Do you understand that?” 

Suga felt as though he were falling forward against those solid arms, entirely taken-aback and tongue tied and (actually) a little scared. It seemed Daichi knew just how charming he was, but did he realize just how intimidating he could be at the same time?

Swallowing, Suga nodded and then as if in compensation Daichi graced him with a soft smile. “Good,” he whispered, releasing his hold to reinitiate their walk towards the beach but still not taking his eyes off of Suga. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t want you to think of me as something so artificial.” 

“No, no- it’s not that.” Suga took a steadying breath, trying not to bite at his lower lip. “I just think- I can’t take a compliment well.”

“ _I_ think maybe you’re just out of practice,” came Daichi’s instant reply. Fingers tickled against Suga’s back sending goosebumps up his spine. He turned sharply to see if perhaps it had been on accident, but Daichi’s lips had curled into something that told him otherwise. 

“Hey lovebirds! While I’m still unwed, huh?” 

Like a deer in the headlights Suga’s head snapped towards the beach to find more of an audience than he really appreciated.

For his trouble Kuroo received a stony glare from Kenma, though the action had the shorter dodging what looked like some type of purposefully inappropriate affection. And even though Suga should have felt entirely mortified by the wrong (but butterfly inducing) nickname and the way he could still feel Daichi’s eyes watching him carefully, he instead (probably cracking from the stress) began to feel himself bubble up with bizarrely uncontainable laughter. 

He was just setting about persuading Daichi to join him with a cheeky grin and an unpredicted little skip in his step when another voice interrupted Suga’s onslaught of giggles, slamming him almost painfully back to the reality of his current and most poignant of personal problems. 

“Suga-chan, I didn’t think you’d actually come!” Oikawa was waving to him from the lax position he’d taken up against one of the volleyball net’s poles. “I hope you’ve remembered your sunscreen. You know how sensitive your skin is to the sun.”

Suga froze. Oikawa was most likely being genuine in his concern, but the way his voice echoed across the sand, more sugary than the evening before, it came off as patronizing and Suga could tell immediately that Daichi had noticed. 

But before he could respond, realizing a little frantically that Oikawa was incredibly correct and he _had_ forgotten to lather up before they’d left the room, Daichi was reaching into one of the pockets of his cargos and pulling out a thin tube to present to Suga. 

“Oh,” he stammered, accepting the sunscreen with tentative fingers.

Daichi swiped at the back of his neck with an abashed shrug. “I had thought perhaps after breakfast we might’ve enjoyed the beach a bit- so I brought it just in case.”

And here they were, enjoying the beach but in such a different way than Daichi had probably imagined from his perch on the balcony that Suga had awoken to. It almost made him want to grab Daichi’s hand and drag him far, far away from all this volleyball nonsense- and of course from his ex-fiancé too. 

Speak of the devil. 

Oikawa had sauntered up to them in his teal, designer swim trunks and perfectly wrinkle free polo. “So _prepared_ ,” he simpered, now strangely ignoring Suga to look Daichi straight in the eye. “Hello, Boyfriend-san.”

It wasn’t totally obvious, but Suga thought he saw Daichi bristle. “Oikawa,” he nodded in obligatory greeting. 

“Have you played much volleyball before?” those wide brown eyes were staring down at Daichi expectantly. “I must warn you, we tend to get a bit _competitive_.” 

There was something hiding beneath those words that began to make Suga’s skin crawl. He’d always known Oikawa to be a bit territorial, but _this_ type of behavior was reminiscent of those times he’d found the man to be hiding an insecurity. He swallowed hard, watching Daichi’s fingers curl at his sides, thinking he might have to actually intervene. 

“Hey now, no fraternizing with the enemy, Oikawa.” _Or_ Kuroo could just intervene for him. How convenient!

Oikawa’s lower lip jutted out as if on instinct. “Maybe _I_ want to play on Suga’s team.”

“Two setters on one side?” Kuroo gave him a scolding look that quickly turned ironically condescending. “Let’s try to be serious here, Tooru.”

“Serious? You’re the one that’s set Bokuto and I up for failure with Chibi-chan.”

“Aw now, don’t underestimate Hinata.” Kuroo made a shooing gesture with his hands. “Now I insist that you return to your side of the net- and try not to be an asshole, huh?” 

Oikawa’s tongue poked between his teeth, shooting a spirited glare towards Kuroo before turning sharply on his heel. Watching him go Kuroo stifled a smirk while Suga was busy observing the way Daichi eyed the man’s retreating form suspiciously. 

“He’s really not as bad as all that.” Suga felt his voice crack under the weight of his attempt at ill-placed defense. “I think perhaps he’s just a bit- um-”

“ _Jealous_ , Suga,” Kuroo supplied with a knowing smirk. “The word you’re looking for is ‘jealous.’” 

Hm. So it _had_ been working- and that wasn’t just coming from Daichi now. But, still there was something not right about it. Something about the way Suga’s gut was clenching at the word and the bizarre tension blowing through the sweet, salty air from the opposite side of the net just- _wasn’t_ what he’d been expecting. 

He nodded a few times, attempting not to let himself fall into a pit of over-thinking when he spotted Kenma shuffling over with a blue and yellow swirled ball in his hands. He tossed it to Suga who caught it over a sharp glare.

“Is this your idea of entertainment?” he asked from the corner of his mouth.

Kenma’s eyes actually glowed with an amusement Suga was only used to seeing from Kuroo. “I don’t know what you mean.”

There came a loud squawking from the other side of the net that Suga couldn’t quite distinguish the origin set of lungs it had come from. But it seemed the noise had provided the distraction Kenma needed to sidle back into the shade of a nearby umbrella, handheld already at his fingertips. 

Suga felt his brow pinch until the ball slipped from his fingers and into the snatching hands of Kuroo, fixing him with a curious gaze. “Alright?”

“I think your fiancé is plotting,” Suga muttered. “And you too, probably.”

“Who _me_?” Kuroo splayed his free hand across his chest. “And Kenma’s a kitten- totally harmless.”

“Ever heard of the cat who ate the canary?” Suga was effectively mumbling now, staring down at the sand his feet were sinking into with every little movement. He could feel a presence come up behind him and he had half a mind to let his body flop backwards and see if he’d be caught or left to fall. 

“Here,” Daichi said next to his ear, fingers fumbling against Suga’s own to retrieve the earlier revealed (and much needed) sunscreen. “I swear, you’re already turning pink.”

Suga turned, biting against his tongue to prevent the explanation that it probably was, in fact, not an initial sunburn but rather just his new permanent flush of anxiety, however Daichi was already spreading a healthy amount of greasy lotion onto his limp arm. Suga managed to snap out of it enough to lift the appendage a little, helping Daichi to rub against his skin with almost clinical precision. 

He could have sworn he heard a mock swoon coming from one of the people he called his ‘friends’ but he ignored it in favor of studying the way Daichi’s own skin glowed in the sunshine like he was meant to be here, basking in the warming rays unlike him with his incredibly pallid appearance. 

Shaking the tube a bit, Daichi placed a dollop of sunscreen against the pad of his finger and then, with a sideways grin, swiped the cool cream right down the ridge of Suga’s nose. 

At the contact there came a spark, something he’d not even registered during the kiss they’d shared the evening previous. And then, fittingly amid the sweltering heat and humidity, Suga felt his insides liquefy. 

* * *

Daichi could feel the dewy sensation of moisture clinging to the back of his neck, curling at his hair and making him wish they’d chosen a less  _sweat-inducing_ activity to start out their morning.

But, he had to admit, the vision of Suga’s lean muscles coming alight with every movement, with every perfectly effortless toss- it somehow made everything else worth it.

_Volleyball_. Who would have thought?

It had been immediately obvious that the sand was going to make it much more difficult to move around at the speed that would be easier on a traditional court. But as Daichi let the coarse sand slip between his bare toes he was able to ground himself, quickly compensating along with Suga and Kuroo, adjusting to any shift beneath their feet. 

He was enjoying the challenge (both the volleyball and Suga himself) and as one of his receives was guided into a nice, easy toss and straight into a powerful spike that seared past Bokuto’s block Daichi felt the sudden, dangerous urge to gather the quicksilver blond into his arms and kiss him ( _again_ ) for all he was worth. 

Grab him and run hands through what looked like feather soft hair and taste those honeyed lips, the one’s he’d been unable to forget since their first unforeseen kiss. He wanted to wrap arms around that slender body, run his mouth down the pale skin of his neck stopping at each and every beauty mark along the way. He wanted- _everything_ with Suga. 

The problem was that not only did this abrupt desire distract him from Bokuto’s one-touch and then also receiving a well-aimed (and surprisingly powerful) quick from Hinata, but it solidified the unfortunate realization that he’d toyed with the night previous, the one where he realized that he was indeed in _way_ over his head. 

Daichi had to remind himself sharply that Suga was just another customer. No, that didn’t sound right- he was just another _client_. But regardless of the name given, he’d been paid (in a thick stack of bills that weighed down his mind just as much as it weighed down his wallet) and to think of him in any other capacity would be a direct conflict of interests. Besides- Suga was here to make his ex-fiancé jealous, the one he clearly still felt _some_ sort of emotion for, the one currently regarding Daichi from behind the net with such an intense gaze it actually made his stomach clench. 

“Oi, Sawamura- getting distracted by the perfect ass in front of you, eh?” Kuroo called from the edge of his sharp-tongue.

Suga spun with a slight blush. “Kuroo!” he scolded.

But Kuroo simply shrugged, running a hand through the shock of black hair that seemed to hide half of his suddenly innocent expression. “What? I was talking about _mine_.”

Bokuto whistled loudly his approval, the whole exchange sending Hinata into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

“Oh Tetsu, I think Suga is _much_ more distracting than _you_.” Oikawa was staring directly at the blond’s ass as he spoke, eyes flicking to catch Daichi’s reaction a second later.

Daichi did nothing but stay silent, his mouth forming a line, determined _not_ to feed into it. And then _Suga’s_ reaction happened.

“Tooru,” he admonished in a soft tone, though the way the corners of his lips quivered and his eyes averted to the sand and the tips of his ears grew visibly warm, Daichi knew that the crass, but flattering comment had gotten to him. And _not_ in the way that it should have. 

Frustration alighting his bones, Daichi felt his chest swell with what he could only equate as some type of oddly placed envy. But it wasn’t _he_ who was supposed to be feeling this way!

Daichi turned trying to rid his expression of anything harsh and then, as he observed Kuroo tossing the ball back to an awaiting Oikawa, he saw it. A pair of golden eyes staring at him from within an oasis of shade. Kenma’s expression was that of expectance, something that at first confused Daichi, but then as the smaller man’s head tipped forward in a nearly indiscernible nod he thought perhaps he actually did understand. 

Steeled with new resolve, Daichi set his vision to the game at hand. They were neck and neck, 23-24, with Oikawa serving. It could go one of two ways, their win or a deuce, and Daichi very much did not want to be on the losing end of that self-seeking simper. He was almost certain that Oikawa was (as Suga had said) not all _that_ bad- but still, jealousy was not a good color on _anyone_. 

“Watch this one,” Kuroo instructed in a low and serious voice that had Daichi’s muscles tensing in preparation. His eyes lingered on Suga, looking a bit apprehensive and still catching his breath from the last rally, before redirecting back to his formidable opponent. 

He’d watched players like this before, their intensity palpable. It wasn’t that Kuroo or the others weren’t intense in their serves, or spikes, or blocks, but there was just _something_ about Oikawa Tooru that was different. It was almost as though he had something to prove. (Which, in this case, he probably did.)

He observed closely as Oikawa calculated, breathed in and out, spinning the ball in his hands with obvious ease and confidence. Knees bent and arms loose Daichi waited, watched as the ball was tossed high, lithe arms trailing behind the server to offer momentum upon his jump. Seconds after Oikawa’s feet had left the ground the sound of flesh against leather echoed across the beach, louder than any of his previous jump serves and much more lethal.

Time only sped up as the ball sliced through the air in a straight trajectory to the open window of sand just behind Suga’s body. However, it did not touch. 

The receive was harsh sand burning along his exposed knees and a bruising impact along his forearms, but as Daichi watched the ball fly upwards toward an awaiting Suga, eyes shining with surprise, he felt no pain but instead just an electrifying sense of pride. 

“Nice receive!” he heard through the fog that attempted to cloud his mind. It was Kuroo’s voice just before his match-point spike made it past Hinata’s barely ill-timed block. 

The next thing he remembered was some kind of wild whooping noise that oddly enough sounded as though it were coming from the opposite side of the net. Then there was some sort of squawking or yelling. And then suddenly there was a pair of wide hazel eyes directly in front of him, a shiver-inducing smile of all perfect, white teeth there too.

“Daichi!” Suga gasped out, an excited little giggle squeaking past his lips.

Dragging in a breath, Daichi forced his lungs back into action. He accepted Suga’s hand and found himself being pulled up into something akin to an embrace, thin fingers hanging onto his arms and tickling at his salty skin. “I did my fair share of dabbling too,” he replied with an exhale, for a lack of anything better.

And then he received the reward he’d not realized he’d been waiting for during the entire match, probably during their entire trip so far. Suga’s arms wrapped themselves around his neck, body jumping up to twine legs around his torso. Daichi caught him under the thighs, dangerously close to the pert backside that had been distracting him earlier, and then Suga was kissing him.

It was different than the first kiss they’d shared. This one started as impulsively as the last, but then something about it changed like the tick of an hour-hand. It slowed and for a brief moment Daichi forgot about anything else happening around him. He didn’t hear the catcalling or embarrassed squeals. He didn’t see the slight approval and delight in the shaded eyes watching them. He didn’t see the way Oikawa’s face turned bitter at the sight.

Instead all he could focus on was the velvety softness of Suga’s tongue against his own, the way their bodies molded together, and how playful fingers pulled at his hair. Daichi found himself tugging at Suga’s lower lip with his teeth, eliciting a soft moan that reverberated straight through him. In turn, Suga squeezed his legs tighter, pushing their bodies together and creating a type of delicious friction Daichi could not ignore. 

The whole thing had happened so fast that when it ended, Suga’s lips pink and swollen as he pulled back, Daichi felt like he’d been somehow cheated, like they’d never have enough time in the world to kiss for the amount of time that such a thing as extraordinary as this required. 

“Everyone’s watching.” The words bubbled from Daichi’s throat before he could stop them, unsure of where they’d even come from in the first place.

Suga brought lips close to his ear, his breath warm against Daichi’s quivering skin. “Isn’t that the point?”

Oh, how the tables had turned.

“Alright, show’s over!”

Both Daichi and Suga jumped at Kuroo’s voice ringing loudly from directly next to them. They turned to find a half-smile and knowing eyes, but otherwise the man said nothing to them about the scene they’d inadvertently caused. 

“That was _amazing_!” Hinata, bouncing with an energy quite uncontainable, was then at Daichi’s side as if totally unaware of his awkward proximity. “Can you teach me to receive like _you_ , Daichi-san?” 

In the midst of everything, Daichi had momentarily forgotten about the bundle of Suga he was still holding in his arms. So, with an embarrassed smile, he set the other man down gently to the sand before turning to the shorter, vibrating Hinata.

“Sure,” he said before sharing a glance with Suga. “But maybe another time. I think I’ve had enough sun for today.” 

Hinata just grinned widely in response before all three of their attentions were drawn haltingly to a commotion taking place just off the court. 

“C’mon! Please- as a pre-wedding gift?” Kuroo was currently tugging at his fiancé's arm with little tact. Huh. It certainly was an _interesting_ relationship.

Kenma was scowling, but had managed to dig his heels into the sand. “Wedding gifts are supposed to be for the both of us.”

Kuroo groaned, almost whined. “ _Kenma!_ Please, just one set?” 

“Pretty please, Kenma?” Bokuto harped, now on his other side as if they were mimicking a devil and, well, _devil_ on each shoulder. “Akaashi promised he’d play too- if I can find him!”

Suga let out a snort that made Daichi flinch, but it did prompt him to join in the amusement. “Are they always like this?” he wondered.

Chuckling quietly, Suga nodded. “Always. But I have this feeling Kuroo will get his way in the end.”

They watched the couple for a moment more before, frustrated, Kuroo leaned in and stole an open-lipped kiss. It was as if Suga had spoken some kind of magic words, because suddenly Kenma was nodding weakly and allowing his body to be pulled into the sun. 

“Akaashi! There you are!” Bokuto was already halfway back to the hotel, but his voice carried easily. Daichi could only imagine the other man’s reaction at the pitch. 

“I guess we’ve been replaced.” The words slipped past from somewhere behind them. 

Daichi turned to face Oikawa, preparing himself for the brunt of whatever posturing conversation he was about to enter into, but surprisingly the man’s eyes had seemed to clear and his expression held something somewhat softer than before. 

Oikawa’s lips pulled into a smile, not only for Suga but Daichi as well. “Good game,” he said. There was something genuine there, but also (Daichi’s stomach dropped) something definitively sad in his demeanor. 

It was as though he’d truly been defeated, and it had absolutely nothing to do with their game of volleyball. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as some of you may agree, this is definitely my favorite chapter so far- for obvious reasons. So, let me know if you agree! (And look at that, it's actually _kind of_ a long one too!)
> 
> Also, wow volleyball is very difficult to actually _write._ So props to you guys who can do it well! 
> 
> Feel free to come yell at me on [tumblr](http://h-lovely.tumblr.com/) about Oikawa (though, trust me I have _wonderful_ plans for him to be revealed very soon) or Daisuga or any other random crap you wanna yell about.


	6. Of All The Fish In The Sea (I Have No Idea If You're The One For Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The fish swam back and forth in soothing patterns, flittering between vibrant yellow sponges and creeping greenish coral that reached out like dozens of little fingers. The light from the tank streamed out onto their faces, painting their skin an etherial aqua._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourself for gratuitous boyfriend vacation fluff...sorry, not sorry...(Theme music [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOIfNyBmZ0g))

The water felt cool against his skin, having been warmed by the sun and the unprecedented victory kiss he could not seem to wipe from his lips. 

Suga breathed the surrounding steam in, slicking a lemongrass-infused lather from his hair and trying not to imagine the way Daichi had held him so easily with firm hands and sinewy muscles. 

It had been- _wonderful_. But it had also been (entirely) _all his fault_. Though Daichi _had_ reciprocated the adrenaline-spurred affection with little to no convincing whatsoever. 

And who would have thought he’d be such an excellent volleyball player? One to rival even that of the grand Oikawa Tooru! Suga let out a laugh beneath his breath at the strange thought. 

For all he’d known Daichi was just some wining and dining charmer who raked in the money by wearing dashing suits and striking up pleasant conversations over cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. But now he realized his mistake- yet even his friends had been shocked by the morning’s outcome, so much so that Bokuto had practically begged the man to stay and play (probably as many matches as they could manage before dropping from sun-exposure.)

So, Suga was grateful when Kuroo managed to find a replacement for Daichi (though seemingly against the newcomer’s will). He was a tall blond with glasses that wore a familiar Kahala polo, no doubt a coworker. Kuroo had called him ‘Tsukki,’ to the other man’s obvious annoyance. 

And so here they were now, back in their room, a thin door separating Suga’s stark naked body from the man he’d practically thrown himself at less than a half-hour before. It should have all been very embarrassing, and yet somehow Suga really felt the most comfortable he had since their initial, first-class introduction. Strange how things worked out.

Suga pulled on fresh clothes (these a little less pastel) and swiped a hand through damp, silver locks before entering back into the room to find Daichi, freshly showered as well, reclining against a few fluffed pillows on the bed and absently flipping through the hotel’s glossy guidebook.

He looked (Suga’s breath was sharp on the intake) so incredibly handsome, so relaxed and casual and there was this feeling of easy domesticity that had surrounded them. For a brief second, Suga nearly forgot that Daichi was, in fact, _not_ his real boyfriend. It was a shame that the lapse in judgement couldn’t have lasted a bit longer. 

Daichi looked up. “Hey,” he greeted, eyes friendly though expression somewhat neutral.

Suga’s gaze flicked to the magazine in his hands. “Planning a sightseeing trip?” he asked with a soft smile.

Shaking his head, Daichi closed his page and tossed the guide back onto the nightstand. “No, not really. Just bored.”

Bored because Suga was boring or bored because he had taken probably too long in the shower and Daichi had missed his company? Suga shook his head, trying to banish the unnecessary thought. 

“We can go somewhere,” he suggested with a shrug.

“I don’t really care, it’s up to you.” Daichi’s eyes averted as though Suga had done something to ruffle him. “Of course, if you don’t want to do anything I’m fine to stay in too.” 

_Stay in_. Was Suga totally overthinking things or had Daichi implied something there? His eyes squeezed shut on impulse. Silly, of course he was overthinking- there was no way Daichi would ever-

“Are you okay, Suga?” 

Eyes flashing open Suga saw that Daichi had tensed, his legs now hanging off the side of the bed, as if readying himself to come to Suga’s aid should he need it. 

“I’m fine.” Suga brightened because really it was the truth. “May I see the guide? Maybe we can find a place for lunch.”

Daichi seemed to calm at that, nodding and reaching for the magazine before patting to the space just next to him on the bed. With a little swallow Suga padded forward and crawled past those brawny thighs to sit next to Daichi, cross-legged. 

But as he leaned into those luxurious pillows and allowed his muscles to melt into relaxation Suga found himself releasing a long sigh. “Or, maybe we can order room service,” he laughed a little dreamily.

He caught sight of Daichi’s admiring grin from the corner of his vision. A spontaneous hand flicked out to run fingers against the outside of a tanned thigh. Suga thought that perhaps they could just do this for the entire duration of their trip. 

Then came a knock at their door. 

Suga groaned, really _groaned_ , and pushed himself further into the feather softness of the bed. He heard Daichi snickering at the response, which only made him whine louder. 

“I swear, if that’s Bokuto trying to get us to play another match-”

But Daichi had already risen from his perch before Suga could complete the threat. Suga rolled onto his side, not at all hiding the fact that he was admiring the man’s backside as he sauntered towards the door. 

And then, with the simple click of the door being opened, the room’s comfortable air was blown directly out the window. 

“Daichi-san!” an unwavering voice greeted. “Is Suga in there with you?” Two seconds later the words were followed by a bounding Nishinoya, dressed in some sort of horrendously neon orange tank top, and yelling, “Get up, get ready, _we’re_ going out!” 

Asahi followed after, sheepishly skirting around Daichi, to set Noya with a pointed look. “Yuu, we can’t force them.”

“I’m not _forcing_ ,” Noya replied defensively. He stuck a thumb out towards Suga. “I’m just strongly encouraging them.” 

“Where are you going?” Suga wondered, unable to quite keep his curiosity in check. His eyes flicked from Asahi then to Noya then to Daichi who had taken up a position leaning against the wall behind them, arms folded across his chest, smirk entirely unhidden. 

“We tried asking Akaashi and Bokuto, but they’re still playing volleyball.” Noya placed quick hands on his hips. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” 

“Fun _where_ , Noya?” Suga asked again, suppressing a laugh.

“Oh!” The smaller man looked only slightly understanding, that little tuft of blond bangs twitching as he cocked his head. “Waikiki Aquarium, of course!” 

_An aquarium?_ It hadn’t been what Suga had been expecting. In fact, it sounded much, much tamer than anything he could have possibly guessed at coming out of Nishinoya’s mouth. But, then again perhaps it hadn’t been all _Noya’s_ idea in the first place. 

Suga’s gaze wondered to Asahi who did look quite contented with the prospect of a quiet afternoon spent with friends wondering through exhibits of nonlethal and predictably beautiful underwater creatures.

But, then again maybe Daichi did not fancy the day spent in such a way. He had been hinting earlier at something else entirely-

“That sounds great.” The deep voice interrupted Suga’s unnecessary internal monologue with an encouraging smile that had even Asahi looking at ease. 

Well- maybe they could _stay in_ tomorrow. 

* * *

When they arrived (courtesy of Asahi’s rental car and having stopped for a quick bite along the way) the sun was shining high in the sky and Suga felt particularly glad for the extra intense SPF that Daichi had packed.

The aquarium was small and quiet which Suga appreciated and he decided quickly that spending the day with a couple such as Noya and Asahi was probably the best idea they’d had since arriving. It wasn’t as though he didn’t get on with the other couples in attendance (of course he did, they were his closest friends after all) but there was just something different about these two- even with Noya’s antics they were definitely low-key compared to the others. And, as an added bonus, there was no chance of running into his ex. 

The group started their tour outside milling through lush gardens of bright green plants and enjoying what little shade was provided by the palms overhead. Suga watched the way Noya clung to Asahi’s muscular arms or how Asahi’s large palm sat comfortably at his boyfriend’s neck, occasionally tickling at the curls of dark hair there. Watching their interaction in turn caused his own fingers to itch for attention, but even so he didn’t mind witnessing the easy affection all that much. 

He began to wonder, on the other hand, if Daichi noticed any of these things or if he was simply following along to play the role he’d been given. He’d been kind and complacent and laughed at Noya’s jokes and sympathized with Asahi’s looks of concern. Daichi had been, for all intents, entirely perfect (just as he’d promised to be).

But still, Suga couldn’t quite diminish the quiet little urges beneath his skin to reach out and touch that surprisingly soft skin or brush lips against his strong jaw. It was a desire he could not determine the initial origin of. 

They meandered through exhibits laid out in the form of intimate, free-flowing lagoons. The low walls were lined with mossy rocks and glass that offered miniature views into the cool water teaming with schools of tiny fish and dancing, dark-toned plants, and even some giant clams.

But it was the monk seals that were the true showstopper it seemed as a rather large crowd had gathered around their watery home. Suga couldn’t help but smile as they watched a pair swimming and swirling in the water, flowing through the liquid like it was nothing, racing one another and curving against the side of the tank with ease. 

Their smooth, brown skin shone just beneath the clear surface as the sun shone down, creating interesting shadows and patterns as the seals glided along, perhaps spurred on by the ‘oh’s and awe’s’ of their audience. 

Sometimes the animals would stop and pop a head up to observe their surroundings, whiskers twitching in the humid air before ducking back under in one, quick motion. They were playful and elegant all at once and Suga couldn’t help but feel a bit charmed at the sight.

“They remind me of Nishinoya.” Daichi had leaned into him just enough to hide his words from their other companions. 

“You’re right.” Suga hummed, unable to quite tear his eyes away from the seals now twisting around one another in at a rapid pace. “Though you haven’t even seen him in his rarest form. This is actually _tame_ Noya.”

He explained this just as Noya was loudly convincing Asahi that he should definitely give him a piggy-back ride through the rest of the aquarium, to which it sounded as though the glass-hearted giant was about to give-in. 

“Noya!” This time Suga did look up, calling over to the others with a sideways glance towards Daichi. “Ready to go inside?”

Daichi shot him a knowing grin as the shorter man ran towards them with an inextinguishable expression of happiness, all but having forgotten the boyfriend he’d nearly wrangled into his personal chauffeur. 

“Asahi has a hard time saying ‘no’ to him,” Suga offered (probably unnecessarily, as obvious as it was) as they entered into the aquarium’s indoor exhibits, following Noya’s lead as Asahi followed to catch up. 

Daichi tilted his head to meet his eyes and then brought fingers up to run throughSuga’s breeze-tossed hair, brushing it off his forehead. “I can understand the feeling.” 

Suga felt an immediate tightness in his chest at the softness of those words, but then as they entered through a set of sliding doors everything darkened and he lost sight of Daichi’s features for a moment as his eyes took the time to adjust.

By the time he was able to see properly again Suga found someone tugging at his hand and Noya pulling him forward towards a large tank filled with colorful coral and neon fish. 

“So cool,” Noya breathed, in true awe, before turning to look for Suga’s own reaction.

And he had to agree, they were truly _beautiful_. He nodded his consensus, expression bright, even as his mind started to wonder back towards Daichi somewhere behind them now presumably with Asahi. 

The four wandered from tank to tank, Noya drawn to the brightest colors with Asahi not far behind. Suga watched as Daichi’s eyes studied each and every sign denoting the different species and habitats, while he studied the animals themselves with a childlike delight he hadn’t felt in years. 

The green sea-turtle had him beaming, perhaps especially because Daichi had sidled up behind him to place a sturdy hand at his waist and read off the ‘interesting facts’ in Suga’s ear. 

He had to forcibly restrain his outward laughter when they came upon a large wall of deep blue water featuring a pair of reef sharks that had Asahi physically placing Noya between himself and the menacing creatures. And then both Suga _and_ Daichi just about lost it when Noya brought sharp fingers up to pinch at his boyfriend’s side causing Asahi to actually let out a little yelp. 

But it wasn’t until they entered a slightly darker room, passing by a glowing tank of translucent jelly fish hovering as if in suspended animation that the shiver of delight running through Suga began to calm and morph into something else altogether. 

There was one large tank anchoring the end of the narrow room and Suga found himself oddly drawn to it, the bright light of the water shining out into the surrounding blackness. 

They stood in front of it for a while, quietly. The fish swam back and forth in soothing patterns, flittering between vibrant yellow sponges and creeping greenish coral that reached out like dozens of little fingers. The light from the tank streamed out onto their faces, painting their skin an etherial aqua. 

Suga’s eyes followed their paths back a forth several times until his gaze came to rest on a certain creature he’d not at first noticed. The fish was tiny, not more than a couple of inches in length, but it was the most vibrant shade of crimson he had ever seen, thin bands of stark white breaking up the red. Its eyes were a depthless black surrounded by faded yellow. He’d never seen anything like it and before he could find his words he brought a silent finger up to lightly touch against the glass. 

As if reading his mind, Daichi’s voice rumbled into his ears as he read the backlit plaque hanging just above the tank. “The peppermint angelfish is renowned for its rarity and, more importantly, its beauty. In nature they are found around depths of three-hundred to four-hundred feet. This is the only one of its species on display in any public aquarium in the world.”

Suga couldn’t take his gaze off it now, the little fish swimming happily about as though it had no idea that it was being observed so closely. “It’s gorgeous,” he finally managed, the words barely an audible whisper. 

When his hand fell back to his side Suga felt the slide of fingers against his own until Daichi was gripping his hand in a comfortable embrace. 

They observed the tank together in silence until Suga began to sense eyes watching him. He turned to meet Daichi’s studying gaze, the man’s expression thoughtful and deep. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked in a hushed voice. 

After a beat Daichi shook his head. “Nothing, Suga.” 

An intense feeling began to rush through Suga’s body, something warming at the way Daichi said his name. They shared the moment together, no longer watching the fish or anything else around them. 

That night Suga was almost certain that he heard Daichi whisper, “ _you’re_ gorgeous,” just before he drifted off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can understand my tiny metaphor here at the end, then I’m doing things right. Also, I apologize profusely for the short length of this chapter, but it wasn’t even supposed to be an _actual thing_ , so yeah. Basically take it as the double date type fluff that it is and I promise the next chapter will have a bit more substance. And maybe (definitely) the appearance of Iwa and Kageyama. 
> 
> Also, if you're interested here's info on the (very real and indeed gorgeous) [peppermint angelfish](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKJ8EKxlaJQ)


	7. I'm On Top Of The World (With A Bunch Of Idiots)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Come on in, the water’s fine!” (Suga was pretty sure that was Kuroo.)_
> 
> _“Hold on to your shorts, kids!” (That one was definitely Bokuto.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I literally wrote the entirety of the next two chapters while listening to one song...can you guess which one? ( [Here's your answer kids](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8PrTzLaLHc) )

**** Sawamura Daichi was definitely a morning person. However, when one is woken up by the shrill ringing of an unfamiliar hotel telephone (no matter the hour) it is not the most pleasant of ways to start the day.

He must have been truly exhausted from their adventures the day before because upon peeling open his eyes Daichi registered that the sun had already risen to the point that warm, orange light was pouring into their room and causing him to blink against the strain rather rapidly.

The phone was still ringing and, by the looks of it, Suga (who had burrowed himself under the fluffy white duvet along with several pillows until the only thing visible of him was the pretty silver of his hair) was not about to answer the phone, probably even if it continuously rang for an hour straight. 

With a grunt Daichi reached across Suga’s sleeping body to retrieve the phone, pulling at the outdated spiral chord until he had enough slack to bring it to his ear. “H’lo?” he answered, mouth still not entirely functioning properly. 

“Suga?” came the unmistakable voice of Kuroo, sounding very much more awake than he ought to have been. 

“No, this is Daichi.” As he spoke he had to fight the urge to let his eyelids flutter closed, the immense heat that was his bed partner trying forcefully to lull him back to sleep. 

“Ah, Sawamura!” His voice crackled through the phone, much too loud. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

Daichi had to stifle a mumbled laugh, instead clearing his throat to answer in a slightly brighter voice. “No, no. May I ask why you’re calling?” 

There came a little groan from somewhere next to him and Daichi found his fingers tugging at the blankets to peek at Suga’s sleeping face. 

“Well, I’ve got this plan to go hiking today and Kenma’s miraculously agreed so I’m trying to round up as many people as I can,” Kuroo explained through rapid words. “And I figured I’d try you guys first- eh- ‘cause I’m sure you know that it can sometimes be difficult to get Suga out of bed.” 

Daichi was still observing Suga from his position propped on one elbow. He looked like a perfectly innocent angel, eyelids fluttering ever-so-often, mouth slack, and fingers curled lightly against his pillow. 

“Um, yeah,” Daichi spoke into the phone, noncommittal. “Sure, when are you going?” 

“I’ve booked one of Kahala’s excursion guides, so-” Kuroo explained, suddenly sounding a bit distracted. “-Iwaizumi says we’ll leave in like an hour. So meet downstairs in forty-five?” 

Daichi still hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from Suga. “Okay, sounds doable.” 

He heard an unmistakable little chuckle from the other end. “Good luck, bro,” Kuroo muttered just before hanging up. 

_Good luck?_ Hm. 

Daichi placed the receiver back into its cradle and the movement must have jarred Suga just enough to pull him out of the deep slumber he’d been under because suddenly his legs were kicking out and he was flipping onto his stomach with a horrendous moan into the pillow that actually sounded _angry_. 

Oh. Now he understood.

With tentative fingers Daichi ran a soothing hand over the man’s exposed back. “Hey, Suga? Kuroo’s invited us to go hiking today.”

There came an entirely muffled response, the words totally inaudible as nothing more than simply (definitely) _annoyed_. 

So, this was going to be trickier than he had imagined. But, that wasn’t a problem as Daichi had a perfectly plausible idea up his sleeve. Leaning in close he whispered a breath against Suga’s milky throat and then proceeded to run soft lips up his jaw and to his ear, tongue slicking against the curved shell. 

But the only reaction his advances got him were fingers flicking at his face and another groan that this time definitely sounded like something crass followed by his name. 

Huh. Well, as his mother had always said, ‘there’s more than one way to skin a cat.’

In one swift motion Daichi rose from the bed and padded towards its foot. He lifted the covers from the mattress and with a quick hand he found what he was looking for. Grabbing Suga’s ankle he pulled and twisted at the same time, the movement followed shortly by quite a loud shriek of surprise. 

For a silent (and somewhat tense) moment Daichi waited, folding arms across his chest, until finally a pair of narrowed hazel eyes peered out from beneath the blanket they had been so swiftly dragged beneath. 

“Sawamura Daichi, _what the_ _hell_ -”

Daichi interrupted Suga’s ferocity with a quirk of his brow. “Kuroo said it would be difficult to wake you.” He shrugged, nonchalant. “And I do like a challenge. But look, it really wasn’t that hard after all.”

Suga spluttered, though this time not out of embarrassment, which Daichi decided was kind of a nice change to see. “Kuroo?” he finally managed to spit out, sitting up and pushing the covers off of his body with a little glower. 

“He called to see if we’d want to go hiking today,” Daichi explained, watching as Suga tried to calm his wild bed-hair with little success. “I’ve accepted. You’ve got-” his eyes flicked to the bedside clock, “-about thirty-seven minutes before we need to be downstairs.” 

Blinking, Suga stared at him. Slowly his vision seemed to clear and the cranky, sleepy Suga was then replaced by the likable man he’d pledged his boyfriend-ship to just a few days previous. “Daichi!” he blurted, eyes widening. “ _Hiking?_ ”

Daichi couldn’t help but laugh at the appall that was clear in Suga’s tone. It was obvious to him now that he had made the right decision- today was going to be fun. 

* * *

It had taken Suga about fifteen minutes to finally pull his body from underneath the covers (and the half-naked Daichi walking around certainly hadn’t helped). Another seven minutes were devoted to scrubbing at his face and attempting (futilely) to get his little cowlick to cooperate. Five more minutes to determine the correct outfit for such an extensive commitment as hiking was undoubtably going to be. And then finally about two minutes to sit and gaze at a certain backside through the bathroom doorway as Daichi brushed his teeth.

That left him with about eight minutes to ponder just how he’d managed to get himself into such a deep (and unpredicted) mess as this trip was starting to become. 

Suga found himself toying with the idea of crawling back into bed and sleeping until the actual wedding as he observed Daichi tying his shoelaces with artful precision. His muscles were yet again being highlighted in a white t-shirt that was probably just _slightly_ too-small and today (lucky Suga) he’d even rolled the sleeves over his shoulders to reveal those thick, eye-catching biceps.

Looking down at his own body as nonchalantly as possible Suga frowned. He too was wearing a t-shirt (gray with a turquoise swoop across the chest) but it was just not the same and he was fairly certain that if he tried rolling the sleeves like Daichi had- well, it didn’t seem like the greatest idea. It wasn’t as though he _never_ worked out, but he was very busy with work and days off were a time for errands or relaxation and- _and_ Suga was very, very good at making up excuses.

Eyes shifting back to Daichi he found himself wondering just how often the man had to go to the gym to look like _that_. What he didn’t realize (as Daichi’s gaze popped up to meet his own) was that instead of mulling the thought over in his mind, his mouth must have said it out loud. 

Daichi was smiling at him, so that was a good sign at least. “I go as often as I can,” he said. “It is part of my job, but I also just enjoy it.”

_It shows._ Suga had to bite his tongue to prevent the words from coming out this time around. Instead he just nodded and watched Daichi stifling what was probably a laugh directed solely at him. _Wonderful_ \- what a _great_ start to the day.

“Ready?” Daichi was in front of him then, hand extended, and there wasn’t a hint of amusement in his features like Suga had assumed, but something much more- _affectionate_.

Suga took the offered hand and stood from his perch on the bed, just barely remembering to grab his sunglasses and sunscreen from the dresser on their way out the door. 

* * *

When Suga and Daichi arrived downstairs they were first greeted by Bokuto (who moments before had been sharing what looked like a calm and intimate moment with Akaashi on one of the lobby’s armchairs) and then after a few moments of obligatory chatter the rest of the group seemed to file in one after the other.

There was of course Kuroo and Kenma. Following them had been Oikawa who’d smiled a fleeting hello in Suga’s direction but (surprisingly) did nothing more. Then a spiky-brunette named Iwaizumi who seemed to know Kuroo well and could bare the brunt of his sarcasm with the ease of broad, muscular shoulders that managed to rival Daichi’s. A tall, lanky man named Lev snuck up on Kenma which earned him a powerful and gut-melting scowl from the latter. Asahi and Noya were nowhere to be found and Suga had the suspicious (and quite jealous) feeling that they were still comfy and warm in their bed together. 

But it wasn’t until that shock of orange hair bounded into the lobby followed by a tall, dark haired man with a striking glower wrapping his features that things got a bit more interesting. 

“Who’s your new friend, Hinata?” Bokuto wondered with a quirk of his thick brow, eyeing the newcomer with obvious skepticism.

“Kuroo said it was a couple’s hike.” Hinata looked a bit pained as his gaze meandered past Tetsurou and over to Kenma. “He said I had to find a date or else I couldn’t come along!”

Eyes narrowing, Kenma’s glare was palpable as it hit his fiancé like an arrow through the heart.

“What? I didn’t think he would take me seriously!” Kuroo placed a hand over his chest, trying his best at sincerity. Suga watched his eyes linger on the apparent ‘date’ knowingly before switching to the redhead. “Hinata, I was just kidding.” 

“Alright then. I’m out, _dumbass_.” 

Hinata actually jumped, totally ignoring the insult that had been growled down at him. “Wait, no!” He pawed at the taller man’s arm. “You can still come, Kageyama!” 

Kenma frowned, clearly confused. “Do you even know him?”

“Of course! Well- we just met-” Hinata placed a finger against his chin. “-hm, maybe an hour ago?”

Kageyama looked unimpressed, folding lithe arms across his chest. “He offered to buy me lunch if I took him to Maunawili Falls.”

“Which, ironically, is _your job_ , Kageyama.” Kuroo had sidled up next to him, placing an arm over his shoulders. 

Furious splotches of red developed on the man’s cheeks, but Hinata just stared up at Kageyama in awe. “You _work_ here?”

“Yes,” he grunted out after a beat of hesitance. “ _Unfortunately_ ,” Suga thought he heard him add under his breath. 

Kuroo slapped a broad palm against Kageyama’s back. “He’s still in training- under Iwaizumi, our _real_ trail guide.”

It looked as though the younger man bristled at the implication that he was, indeed, not as _real_ as his boss, but he didn’t voice it. 

“This idiot didn’t tell me it was an _excursion_ _hike_ -” Kageyama pointed an accusing finger at Hinata. “-with _other_ people.”

Like a switch had been flipped suddenly the smaller man was frowning angrily, looking as though steam might start to pour out of his ears. “Hey! _You’re_ the one that didn’t tell me you worked here. I’m not the idiot, _you’re_ the idiot!” 

As if predicting Hinata’s imminent attack on the sneering Kageyama, a thick hand caught at the back of his shirt holding him in place. Iwaizumi scowled. “Stop provoking the guests, Kageyama,” he grunted out with a roll of his dark eyes. 

Suga spied Daichi from the corner of his vision looking rather tense as though he’d been preparing to intervene if Iwaizumi hadn’t done so first. 

“It was Kuroo’s genius idea to take _this_ group hiking?” Suga muttered from the edge of his mouth.

Daichi let out a soft snort before nodding in confirmation. 

* * *

As it turned out, Iwaizumi Hajime was an excellent guide- and also an excellent damage controller; a couple slaps upside the head from him ensured that Kageyama and Hinata walked next to one another in utter silence, only stealing a few narrow-eyed glances every now and again.

Otherwise, there wasn’t much trouble to be had other than the muddy terrain and steepness of the ascent- something Suga hadn’t quite prepared himself for. But even so, the views _were_ quite breathtaking (and, of course, not _just_ the scenery).

About halfway into the hike the moisture trapping trees and growth opened up to reveal a sweet breeze and the surrounding green mountains and even a distant look at Kailua, a teal sliver of ocean glimmering in the morning sun.

As they continued onwards, the trail dipping back into lush jungle, Daichi and Suga hovered near the back of the group. Together they wordlessly observed their companions, occasionally sharing an amused glance or else brushing fingertips together with the movement of their swaying arms. 

Suga couldn’t help but snicker at the way Kenma led Kuroo, the smaller man able to slip beneath low hanging branches with ease, his body agile whereas the taller man had nearly gotten smacked with three different fronds in the past ten minutes. 

Just ahead of them the lanky Lev had struck up a very animated conversation with Hinata, which (for unknown reasons) seemed to have quite agitated Kageyama- his balance clearly having been affected by how forcefully he’d crossed his arms over his chest as he slid a bit in the mud every few steps. 

Akaashi and Bokuto walked together similarly to Suga and Daichi, though Bokuto’s hand didn’t leave his boyfriend’s own for more reason other than to point out some type of squawking bird or a colorful insect fluttering by with an excited gesture. Akaashi’s affectionate, taciturn smile upon each occurrence did not go unnoticed.

At the front of their little group (Suga realized almost absently) Iwaizumi guided with Oikawa not far behind. Every once in a while the tall brunette flailed in the slick dirt or screeched when a wayward branch startled him with its touch, but each time Suga noticed that Iwaizumi’s backwards glances were not just aggravated, but also somehow curious. 

“Alright?” Daichi wondered close to his ear as the group neared what sounded like some kind of rushing water. They’d come upon a clearing in the undergrowth, the surrounding greenery opening up to reveal the brilliant blue sky and what looked like a very steep drop off. 

Suga turned to meet those warm eyes. He’d been so deep in thought he’d almost forgotten the man was so close to him. “Fine,” he offered with a soft smile of reassurance. 

He was just in the middle of fighting off a very deliberate urge to press his lips to Daichi’s quite beckoning mouth when a sudden shriek shook him out of his daze and back to reality just as a flash of something (remotely human) flew past them. 

There came a war-cry and a deafening whoop and then Suga found himself watching both Kuroo and Bokuto throw themselves off the cliff they were (apparently) now standing on. 

“Oh!” Suga squeaked, but his concern was immediately overridden by the sound of rumbling laughter emanating from somewhere next to them.

They both turned in time to see Iwaizumi’s stony face brighten with obvious amusement. “We’ve reached our final destination,” he added with a wave of his hand. It wasn’t at first clear what exactly he found so funny (couldn’t possibly be the over-excited cliff-jumping) but then Suga’s gaze landed on the shell-shocked look that had been plastered on Oikawa’s features as he hovered near the edge in search of their overzealous companions. 

Tooru jumped when Iwaizumi landed a powerful palm against his shoulder, scrambling backwards and away from the rushing waterfall that had apparently been their goal all along. And then the sounds of booming laughter rose to their ears from the water below.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!” (Suga was pretty sure that was Kuroo.)

“Hold on to your shorts, kids!” (That one was definitely Bokuto.)

As if in perfect synchronization Daichi and Suga turned to one another with wide eyes. _Cliff-jumping?_ It seemed as though neither of them had any experience with such a thing. 

“I’ve never been one for heights,” Daichi said then with a little, nervous chuckle. 

Now _that_ Suga could not have predicted. Daichi seemed as though he’d be entirely fearless, but maybe that was Suga being biased. _Maybe_. 

But there was just something about the way the man’s eyes travelled towards the vine-ridden rocks that partially hid the view of the rushing waterfall that nearly drowned out their thoughts before flittering back to Suga’s own that made his bones quiver.

'Revenge' had never exactly been an abundant word in Suga's personal vocabulary. But, of course, he _was_ still trying to get over the very indelicate yet butterfly-inducing way he'd been awoken that morning.

With such an impulse that he’d not felt in ages Suga stepped forward, wrapping fingers around Daichi’s wrist and pulling until their noses brushed against one another, skin slick from humidity and overabundant sunscreen. 

“Never?” The word came as a hushed whisper, more sultry than Suga had intended, but at this point that didn’t really matter. He watched Daichi’s look of shock melt slowly away as Suga hovered his lips just over the man’s wavering mouth. 

It was barely a kiss, more of a whisper, and something much more bold than Suga could have ever predicted himself to do. 

Followed by the spark that snared between their lips, Suga felt an intensely wild tremor run through his muscles. This was it- just he and Daichi and no one else around (no ex-fiancé, no near-newlyweds, no obnoxiously cute boyfriends, _no one_ ). 

He could feel the way his mouth twitched into that devilish smirk before Daichi even noticed it (almost too late) as Suga found his feet carrying him backwards towards the precipice, toeing off his shoes and socks along the way. 

And then, with an added wink, he jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, so as you might have surmised from the last couple of chapters this story is not going to follow its inspiration (The Wedding Date) to an exact T. I won't go into details, but I'll just leave it at that and hope that some people that were concerned for later chapters realize that I _will_ be taking some creative liberties here!
> 
> I love you all. I hope you're still enjoying this cavity-inducing disaster that has totally decided to take over my life. Also, _Iwa-chan and Kags and sleepy Suga!!_ Yay!


	8. A Lesson In Confidence (For Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Just relax. You're safe._

The sensation of feather-soft lips against his own still lingered even as the essence of utter shock and horror vied (quite admirably) for every last inch of Daichi’s emotional rope.

He’d just managed to convince his legs back into working order when the sound of a splash echoed back up to his ears. Daichi scrambled towards the cliff’s edge, having to steel himself in order to peer over the rocky drop-off. 

He swallowed once and then inched his hands forward along a particularly damp patch of moss to look directly down the thirty-foot plummet to see Suga treading water, head inclined to meet his worried gaze with an incredibly large grin that looked (damn him) almost taunting. 

Suga was laughing too- silvery hair wet and dripping, his graceful arms creating sparkling eddies through the water surrounding him, and (unfortunately for Daichi) he was still effortlessly beautiful even after such a stomach-dropping feat. 

It’s not as though heights were his number one fear (probably admitting that he really doesn’t _want_ to accept money for sexual relations takes that cake) but still the idea of this whole _jumping off a cliff_ thing becoming increasingly more and more real was starting to make his palms sweat. Yet still, it wasn’t even so much the jump, it was the _falling to one’s untimely death_ that really twisted up his gut. 

Suga waved to him, something horribly cute about the way his fingers fluttered in the air. “Are you coming?” he hollered and Daichi felt his hold on the rocks momentarily slipping. 

“There’s a path down if you’re really not interested,” came a deep voice from behind. Daichi turned to find Iwaizumi observing him, having apparently given up his attempts at appeasement of one Oikawa Tooru (who was still looking a bit shell-shocked and Daichi had to wonder if he looked as bad as that- he certainly hoped not.)

But before he could answer, another figure bowled past him leaping off into the air like a bird taking flight. Kageyama’s eyes were full of pride that matched the little sneer his lips had turned into and it wasn’t hard to see why as the sound of Hinata’s voice came screeching just a few seconds after him, “Wait- you got a head start! You _cheater_!” 

Daichi’s eyes watched both the raven-haired man and the redhead launch through the air with rapidly growing concern. What, was he just surrounded by adrenaline junkies?

There came another vivacious yell, the sound melding with the wet cheers howling up from below, as Lev made his own leap a few feet away. “Geronimo!” his voice carried far and wide.

Iwaizumi was still watching him watching every one of their companions jumping to their own deaths (okay, okay, maybe that was an over-exaggeration) and even though the man’s dark eyes glazed neutral there was something inciting about that small grin he harbored. 

Brows furrowing Daichi became considerably more concerned about how this was going to affect his life in the long term. Jump over the edge and injure oneself beyond repair. Don’t jump over the edge and be ridiculed the rest this trip’s duration. Jump over the edge and receive some sort of inevitable reward of affection from Suga (he really liked the sound of that one). Don’t jump over the edge and lose Suga’s respect and fondness _forever_. 

He could hear laughter bubbling up from the glistening turquoise water below. It was undoubtably Sugawara Koushi’s laugh and it was undoubtably filling him with a desire uncontrollable. Uh oh. 

“Akaashi!!” Bokuto was bellowing then and Daichi found his vision drawn to the image of the slender man standing with his toes casually hanging over the edge of a particularly sharp rock, eyes staring downwards with not a trace of apprehension. 

Akaashi was graceful in his jump (unlike the others) his arms splaying forward and his body arching with the powerful push of his legs. Into the sticky air he leapt, a perfect swan dive. Barely a sound was made upon his clean entrance into the water seconds later. 

Alright, that was the last straw. Daichi pushed himself upwards into a standing position, gaze not unaware of Kenma’s easy (and totally uncaring) trek downwards towards a swimming Kuroo and Iwaizumi’s eyes still glued to him, the look akin to pure pressure baring down on his shoulders. 

The drop, Daichi found, wasn’t so bad as long as he was not actually _looking down_. He could hear some kind of words flowing behind him, sounding a bit high-pitched, and they were definitely originating from Oikawa and he was definitely ignoring them, regardless of if the current topic was in regards to him or not. 

“Daichiii!” 

He realized (somewhat belatedly) as he heard his own name stretched into many, excited syllables and echoing quite plainly against the damp rocks and the crashing waterfall that he had somehow managed to bring himself to stand bare-footed, literally toeing the line between precipice and thin, unforgiving air. 

_Do not look down._ As he tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one fluid motion he chanted the words over and over again in his mind. It was a good mantra and he was sticking to it. But then the sweet sound of Suga’s voice filtered up into his ears and (as if on natural instinct) his eyes were averted downwards to meet that sunshine face and then he was _so totally_ _screwed_. 

Daichi’s stomach lurched once, but somehow those wide, hazel eyes shone just enough in the dappled sunlight filtering across the secluded little oasis to ease every tensed muscle in his body with one, single glance. 

Well, in for a penny. 

It was in the moment between initial leap and water engulfing him upon entry, that stomach-dropping free-fall as his arms flapped in the air like a flightless bird, knees bent against the pull of gravity, that Daichi realized that the stunning image flashing across his vision was not something (or _someone_ ) that he could continue to take so lightly.

The water was cooler than he’d expected as his entire body was pulled under against the splash that echoed somewhere above him, muffled beneath the pool of turquoise. He was floating, suspended for a few seconds as his brain registered exactly what he’d just done, any nerves or fears being suddenly transformed into some sort of tingling strain of adrenaline that coursed through his muscles just as he reached the surface. 

He gasped in a breath of air, lungs filling greedily, and then as his eyes opened, fingers coming up to wick away the droplets clinging to his lashes, Daichi was met with an ethereal sight. 

Suga swam towards him, arms gliding through the water with ease. His pale skin was tinged aqua, glowing from beneath the surface of the pool. Silvery blond hair curled this-way-and-that, damp and a darker shade than usual. There was something in those eyes as they neared, something bold and entirely covetous. 

It was both terrifying and breathtaking- all at once. 

Soft lips met his own, the weight of Suga pressing against him swirling their bodies through the rippling pool. Treading water together, they kissed like it was the easiest thing in the world. Daichi felt himself falling and the only thing keeping him in the here and now was the gentle murmur of voices beside them, the crashing of the waterfall, and the feel of Suga’s fingers playing against the muscles of his abdomen. 

When Suga pulled back Daichi found himself fighting against the urge to push forward and back into the gentle sensation of that mouth and the way it fit so perfectly against his own. At the disappointing absence he opened his eyes to watch as something other than the usual flush of anxiety washed over Suga’s expression. It was darker, yet sweet, and the way he was staring at him made Daichi nearly forget who he was and where they were and who they were with. 

Oh yes, that’s right. They were with-

“Its you’re turn, Oikawa!” Kuroo hollered upwards from his position clinging to an outcropping of rocks that Kenma was currently perched on looking as though he were weighing the pros and cons of letting his feet slip themselves into the inviting water. 

“I am _not_ swimming in that water! It’s filthy!” 

Both Daichi and Suga glanced up, their eyes shaded just enough to be able to make out Oikawa’s vehement expression and also the one of irritation that popped up directly behind him. For a split second Daichi thought that perhaps Iwaizumi would just push the man over, but then there came a sigh and a shake of his head (almost something oddly fond) and he grabbed Oikawa’s arm none-too-gently and started to drag him towards the half-hidden, naturally built stairway that Kenma had taken a few moments before. 

Across the pool nearest the waterfall they watched as Kageyama and Hinata dodged splashes and wet fists with as many glares and yelps as Daichi had ever witnessed between two people that barely knew each other. It was only when Lev, with a single long arm and a powerful sweep, covered them both in a tidal wave of water that they calmed enough to just enjoy the swim. 

It seemed he and Suga had not been the only couple to stifle laughter at the scene as Bokuto’s eyes grew large as he turned towards Akaashi, but the slighter man seemed to know him better than he knew himself because just before Bokuto could douse his boyfriend with a splash he was being pushed under the water with strong and determined hands against his broad shoulders. 

Kenma too eyed Kuroo a bit distrustfully after these displays, but it seemed any mischief Kuroo might’ve been harboring had been washed clean as he treaded water with gentle strokes and only tickled against his fiancé's feet after they’d made their way into the pool. 

With a little giggle Suga swam towards the rocky ledge nearest them, latching fingers against it but not pulling himself from the water just yet. In his haste to catch up Daichi nearly missed the little coo and wave from Oikawa just before his toe caught on a traitorous vine and sent him rocking forward with a grunt right into Iwaizumi’s back.

“Watch it!” Iwaizumi barked with a powerful glare backwards even as he did his best to catch the man gently around the wrists. His teeth gnashed at the contact. “ _Shittykawa_ ,” he muttered out a second later like he couldn’t quite stop it from falling out of his mouth. 

Daichi could not (would not) control the chuckle that resonated from within his gut at the impulsive nickname and it seemed Suga felt the same, eyes shining with amusement even as his smile pulled a bit tighter than before. 

The two stopped only a few feet from them, but it seemed that Oikawa’s vision had been redirected from Suga and had now been tethered to someone else. Iwaizumi had not let go of his hold on the taller man’s arms. 

“Oh, so strong-” Oikawa simpered, those mocha-eyes darkening. “- _Iwa-chan_.” 

The immense splash that emanated as Oikawa’s frame was thrust backwards into the pool managed to spray Suga and Daichi with a healthy douse of water. But they were oblivious as it dripped from their skin, so enthralled with laughter (along with everyone else) as Oikawa Tooru spluttered with a gasping glare as he surfaced. 

But it was Iwaizumi’s full-bodied, thundering chuckle that outweighed them all- earning him a drenched looking pout that seemed to only fuel the group’s contagious amusement. 

* * *

“What is  _that_ ?”

Daichi stood before Suga, freshly showered and shaved and looking handsome as ever save for one, horrendous, multi-colored detail. 

“What? We’re in Hawaii aren’t we?”

It was, in a sense, what one would call a ‘Hawaiian shirt.’ It was also several shades of orange, aqua, and _wrong_. And it was bad enough that there were little tikis and large, blooming hibiscus flowers covering the entirety of the garment, but what made it all the more worse was the large grin of pride Daichi was wearing on his face at Suga’s obvious disgust. 

“That’s just an excuse.” Suga frowned, pointing a sharp finger at his chest. “Did you own this shirt _before_ you knew you were coming here?”

“Of course,” Daichi huffed back with a defensive eye roll. “I can’t believe you didn’t bring one. I bet they have tons of them down in the gift shop.”

Suga blinked and shook his head vigorously. “Oh no, you’re not getting me into anything that screams ‘dad’ as much as that monstrosity does.”

And that’s when he knew he’d made his mistake. Daichi set him with a stomach melting smile, not at all offended, and narrowed his eyes in a devilish manner. Suga swallowed. Uh oh.

* * *

“Remind me never to make fun of you ever again.”

It was now Suga who stood before Daichi in, what was admittedly a tamer version of Daichi’s own shirt (black with creamy palm fronds and matching flowers) and wearing a scowl that was not quite powerful enough to hide the inkling of giggly warmth he felt at the bottom of his gut. 

“I think it looks great on you.” Daichi gave him a toothy grin. “Really brings out the color of your eyes.”

Without really thinking Suga lashed out and smacked him on the arm, not intending it as an assault but more as a playful warning, but the loud _thwack_ it produced had him immediately tensing. “Daichi, I’m so-”

But the infectious sound of Daichi’s laughter drowned out his half-formed apology. “I like _this_ Suga,” his voice rumbled out. “The one that’s not so worried about all those imaginary eggshells under his feet.”

Suga, for a few seconds, wasn’t quite sure if he should be flattered or offended by Daichi’s assessment but as warm fingers found his own, twining them together as they walked through the lobby he thought perhaps he would never overanalyze anything ever again. (And, even though he knew that was wishful thinking, it was still a nice thought to have.)

“You know, if you’re escorting me all the way there you might as well just stay,” Suga said as Daichi’s thumb swept over the back of his hand. Walking through the hotel’s front doors and out into the evening air, their skin glowed in the setting sun’s light. They headed down the short path towards _Hoku’s_ \- the choice of venue for Kuroo’s bachelor festivities. 

Daichi shook his head thoughtfully. “No, no. I’m not going to break tradition on account of walking you five extra minutes down the road.” He smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges. “Besides, you’ll have more fun without me there. I’m sure it’ll be an _interesting_ night.”

With a groan, Suga found his free hand wrapping around Daichi’s arm to pull them closer as they walked. “I’m kind of jealous of you. I’m sure Kenma’s party will be much less harrowing than Kuroo’s.” 

“Hm, maybe,” Daichi chuckled. “Unless Kageyama shows up with Hinata.”

Suga let out a soft snort. “That would certainly add another element to it. But still, you won’t be pressured into drinking your entire weight in tequila or something equally as terrifying.”

With an easy, natural motion Daichi swept fingers through Suga’s bangs, brushing them from his forehead. “You’ll be fine,” he replied. “And if you need, I’ll be there to take care of you in the morning.” 

A shiver ran through Suga’s muscles at his words. Dammit, it didn’t even seem like he was trying- the charm just exuded from the man. “Thanks,” he muttered, biting at his lower lip suddenly unsure of how else to respond.

“Hey.” Daichi tugged at his hand, stopping for a moment beneath the shade of a rather tall palm tree. “What’s wrong?”

Suga hadn’t realized just how dejected he’d allowed his features to become in the space of a few short seconds. His shoulders had slackened and now under Daichi’s concerned gaze he only felt them dip further. 

“N-nothing!” And it was true, there really was no reason for him to suddenly be feeling like this, but still there was just something about the way Daichi’s skin brushed against his own and how easy everything was beginning to feel that it was starting to fill him back up with an anxiety that was now somehow different than before. 

“Suga?” Daichi was beginning to lessen the gap between them. On instinct Suga took a step back and then another and then his back was colliding softly with the palm’s rough bark.

“It’s nothing,” he spit out. “I’m just nervous- to see Oikawa is all.”

It was a lie- a blatant one at that and the way that Daichi’s head cocked ever-slightly and his lips pressed into a firm line Suga was fairly sure that he knew it too.

“Suga, close your eyes.” His voice had dipped an octave, the vibrating timbre causing Suga’s hands to tremble at his sides. Daichi had stepped forward, closing the distance between them until his mouth hovered only an inch from Suga’s own.

“Close your eyes,” Daichi repeated, this time the words palpable against Suga’s skin. Hazel eyes darted left and right; it wasn’t as though they’d not kissed in plain sight before, but this- _this_ was somehow different. 

It took another few seconds of hesitance and for his mind to totally catch up with the proceedings, but with a soft intake of breath Suga allowed his lids to close and Daichi to take over. 

At first, nothing happened. He could sense the other man in front of him still, but there was no direct contact, nor any words to break up the silence. 

And then it came- warm breath filtering against the skin of his neck, the nearly invisible sensation of lips trailing down towards his collar bone and back up to the shell of his ear, and yet there came no kiss or contact whatsoever. An immense shiver ran down his spine and Suga couldn’t help how his lips parted, his breathing becoming uneven. 

Fingers wondered up to brush at his cheek, the only physical touch he was offered and then Daichi spoke. “Just relax. You’re safe.” His tone was hushed velvet. “Stop worrying, forget the past, and know how sorry he’s going to be when he sees you walk into that room with the confidence of the incredible man that you are.” 

There was a brief second that Suga found himself floating with nothing to ground him other than Daichi’s voice and presence. He felt both hot and cold all at once, something tingling just beneath the surface of his skin. And then, Daichi stepped back and Suga opened his eyes.

“ _Daichi_.” The name rushed from his lungs in one, long gasp for air. 

The man stood watching, his brown eyes dark beneath the ever-setting orange sun and Suga felt something in his gut burning and twisting at the sight. 

“We should get going.” Daichi offered his hand as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between them. “Don’t want to be late.”

Suga grasped his hand again, trying not to let the man feel how clammy his palms had become. “Yeah, okay,” he whispered out shakily, pushing away from the tree-trunk he’d nearly just melted into. 

When they entered Hoku’s they were met with raucous laughter, the sight of drinks already flowing, and one Kuroo Tetsurou sporting a bright pink sash reading ‘bachelorette’ in all caps and surrounded by (horrifyingly cute) little phallic images. 

For a second Suga entertained the idea of turning right around and marching them both back to the safe confines of their hotel room, but it was too late as the apparent ‘bride-to-be’ had already spotted them.

“Save yourself,” Suga was hissing as he pushed at Daichi’s shoulder. The man just laughed at him though, standing his ground because apparently this was just _terribly amusing_ to him. 

“Suga!!” Kuroo howled, coming at him with wide open arms to engulf him in a suffocating hug.

“How many drinks have you already had?” Suga wheezed out between squeezes. 

“Does it matter?” Kuroo answered low in his ear and as Suga looked up to him he realized that the man was actually not as intoxicated as he’d made himself out to be. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Daichi said with a grin, but the words caught Kuroo’s attention and before the other man could take one step in the opposite direction he’d latched onto Daichi and was pulling him towards the bar.

“You’ve got to stay and have at least one drink with me before you go, Sawamura-san!” Kuroo’s voice carried throughout the entire place (even if the restaurant was small to begin with) and soon there was a congregation of tipsy party goers surrounding the guest-of-honor. 

“Can you believe Suga actually gets to _do it_ with this guy?” Bokuto’s slap to his back did nothing to hinder the intense blush that spread across Suga’s cheeks as he turned to face his friend. “No really, like I _love_ Akaashi, but Sugawara Koushi you sure are _lucky_.”

Next to Bokuto appeared the face of Iwaizumi, looking a lot less rugged than on their excursion, but still holding an air of intensity about him. He nodded in neutral agreement, sipping at his whiskey while his eyes drifted towards something (or perhaps _someone_ ) else altogether. 

Trying his best to ignore the fire boiling in his gut, Suga let his gaze travel towards the bar, unable to fight off the smile that crept onto his face as he watched Daichi apparently toasting Kuroo with a shot of some kind of clear liquid clenched between his fingers. 

_Just relax. You’re safe._

Suga allowed his fingers to unclench and fall limply at his sides, giggling a bit at the sour face Daichi made as he downed the burning alcohol in one go. Bokuto was saying something at his side (it seemed maybe something in regards to his fun, new shirt) but he could not make any of it out as Daichi (after giving Kuroo a heavy slap on the shoulder) pushed and prodded his way back over to Suga. 

“I’ll see you back at the hotel?” he said and Suga blinked, nodding on instinct at the words.

Daichi leaned forward and gave him a soft, chaste peck on the lips that Suga nearly missed in whatever odd daze had come over him, but just as the man was pulling back there came an obnoxious cheer followed by several loud whistles and Suga looked up to see nearly every set of eyes upon them, brows waggling and teeth grinning widely.

So, without much forethought, Suga grabbed at the back of Daichi’s neck bringing him back in for a much less modest display. Ignoring the man's obvious shock, he opened Daichi's mouth easily with his tongue, gripping at his short hair and filling the kiss with more passion than he’d experienced any of the other times previous. 

More yelling and cat-calling ensued, but it was all lost on Suga as he relaxed into Daichi, smiling widely against those surprised lips. He was safe. He was confident. But it wasn’t _he_ that was the incredible man here- not even close. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go- you've got some Iwaoi, a bachelor party, and even a minor (shameless) dad joke. And of course, a heaping helping of Daisuga! 
> 
> Prepare yourself for some minor sin in the next chapter (but who will it be, who will it be?)
> 
> Your kudos and comments and bookmarks and readership still astound me. I am forever grateful to get to freak out about Daisuga and Haikyuu!! in general with you all! Thank you.


	9. Drink, Drank, Drunk (And Other Pre-Wedding Traditions)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Suga tried his best to be silent, to pad across the carpet and slide into bed as soft as a whisper. But the sight of Daichi, curled on his stomach, covers lightly tossed over legs askew and revealing the sharp muscles of his backside- Suga let out a breathy gasp._

**** “How long have you known him?”

The beverage sitting in front of Suga, the one tinged a glassy blue and holding a little pink umbrella, was proving to be much too weak to allow him to handle the new game of twenty-questions Kuroo had initiated somewhere in between his third and fourth shot of- he wasn’t even sure anymore _what_ it was exactly, Suga just couldn’t keep track. 

“Er- not _that_ long.” It wasn’t a lie. Suga pursed his lips as if in thought before adding, “A couple of months.” And there ended his streak of honesty. 

Kuroo pressed into him, both literally and figuratively. His eyes were clearer than Suga felt his own probably were, those cat-like pupils slicing sharply through amber irises. “And you like him?”

Suga’s brows furrowed, unsure of why the other man seemed to be so invested all of a sudden. Weren’t they supposed to be celebrating _his_ relationship here, not whatever this was that Suga found himself so powerfully wrapped up in that it made his stomach twist. 

“Well, yeah. I mean-” Biting his bottom lip, Suga pictured Daichi’s face in his mind, tanned skin dappled with the sunlight that had filtered through the palm fronds on their walk earlier that evening. “-of course I like him.”

“So then why are you acting so rattled by the guy?”

Suga’s gaze twitched up to meet a very prominent smirk, a line of white teeth peeking through at the side. He frowned, fingers clenching around the thin stem of his glass. “I am _not_ rattled by him.” 

He watched Kuroo’s lips twitch and Suga felt very much like he was missing something here. His teeth snapped together and he tried hard not to let himself sputter because (undoubtably) that would only begin to prove Kuroo (more) correct. 

Instead of acknowledging Suga’s obvious (and annoyed) denial Kuroo’s smirk stretched farther up the side of his face that was not obscured by black fringe. “What, are you like _in love_ with him?”

Suga’s jaw went slack, popping open for only a second until his mind clicked back to life and was able to save some of his composure. _Love?_ Oh, that’s right- Kuroo was still under the impression that he and Daichi were _together_ \- the boyfriend/boyfriend kind of together. 

Either way, the use of _that_ particular word had Suga cringing almost immediately. He’d only ever used _that_ word in regards to _one_ person (and just look how that had turned out). 

But _Daichi_ \- somehow Daichi was different. Suga wasn’t sure what it was exactly. That wide grin, his kind eyes, _those_ muscles. But no, it wasn’t just those physical things that had Suga’s heart feeling like it had been left electrocuted. It was the gentle weight of his hand against Suga’s shoulder, his words of reassurance, the way in which he could seemingly read Suga’s mind and say just the right thing at just the right time. It was the way Daichi made him feel _whole_ again. 

“M-maybe I do love him!” Suga chirped out, unable to hold the words on his tongue any longer. “Or maybe I just get immediately attached to anyone who pays me any attention.” He swallowed too hard, eyes widening a bit as his brain finally caught up to his mouth. “Either way, it’s a disaster.”

Kuroo chuckled, though his amusement was softer than before. “A disaster. Really, Suga?”

There came an excited yell followed by a high-pitched screech from somewhere behind them, but neither man let it phase them. 

Suga leaned forward. “What if-” his eyes darted around a bit nervously. “What if he doesn’t like me back?” 

“Then screw him!” Kuroo’s voice boomed a bit louder than either had been prepared for. Shaking his head he continued. “But seriously, who _wouldn't_ like you? And I’m talkin’ _like_ like, Suga. That’s heavy stuff.”

“Who _like_ likes who?” Nishinoya was suddenly climbing onto the barstool on Suga’s other side, hanging against the bar with his knees against the seat that was looking a little wobbly at his odd position. 

“No one-” 

“Daichi.”

Suga shot Kuroo a sidelong glare as he blatantly spoke over him. 

“Oh dude, he totally likes you.” Noya gave Suga an entirely serious look, gravely quirking his lips downwards. “It’s so obvious! Shouldn’t you know that- he _is_ your boyfriend, right?”

Unable to register the fact that he was skating on thin ice to keep his secret under wraps, Suga’s brows furrowed. “Obvious?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Kuroo said, causing Suga’s eyes to ping-pong between them. “Even Kenma can tell- and Kenma doesn’t usually care about that kinda stuff.”

That _was_ true- Kenma barely acknowledged his feelings for Kuroo (at least not publicly) and they were getting married in less than seventy-two hours.

But, of course Daichi had already proven himself to be quite a skilled actor- his sugary charm on the plane in front of Tanaka (before they’d even known each other five minutes) had been definite proof of that. This was his _job_ \- to make his clients happy and content and to portray to the outside world that said clients, well, had their relationship-shit together (to put it blatantly.)

“Suga?” Noya was poking a finger into his arm, but the contact did nothing to hinder his sudden, mental spiral.

On the other hand, Daichi did seem to act genuinely around him- even when they were both alone in their hotel room. Perhaps it wasn’t all an act put on to make his ex jealous. And speaking of exes-

“What’s wrong with him?” That was Bokuto’s voice filtering into his half-listening ears. 

“Internal struggle,” Kuroo replied, as if it were obvious.

“Struggle?” Bokuto squawked in confusion from somewhere behind. “What could he possibly be struggling with?”

Suga remembered foggily the expression that had worn on Tooru’s face during the aftermath of their volleyball game. It hadn’t been something he’d ever witnessed before. Not exactly unhappy, nor angry, not even jealous, but something else altogether-

“Iwa-chan!”

It was, ironically, Oikawa’s voice that broke through his reverie. Suga blinked away the cloud of intense thoughts that had recently swept through his mind, first glancing at a perplexed looking Noya that had leaned into his field of vision, still teetering on his barstool, and then across the bar towards a bank of curved booths facing them. Beneath the orange glow of overhanging lamps sat Iwaizumi nursing a lowball of amber liquid and knitting thick brows over his eyes as he regarded the lithe man standing before him. 

Oikawa, hands placed just-so against his hips, had his head cocked, feathery hair gliding with the movement. He was saying something softer now, not loud enough for Suga to make out, but whatever it had been did nothing to replace the sour expression Iwaizumi continued to provide him with.

But just as Suga was gearing his mind back towards Kuroo and Noya and Bokuto, the man he used to call his fiancé turned ever slightly, twisting his back to jut his chin out over his shoulder. Those mocha eyes shown with mischief in the low light as they caught Suga’s own with definite purpose. Both men blinked a few times before Oikawa’s lips spread into something of a smile before he dropped his lanky body down into the booth next to Iwaizumi who looked just about ready to raise his hackles and bare teeth.

But Suga missed any of the next interaction between the two as suddenly there was a set of long fingers shoving some type of foil square just under his nose, drawing his attention and causing his eyes to momentarily cross. 

“Here, take this.”

“Kuroo-” Suga (instead of flustering for once) set him with a blunt expression, earnest tone, and a sharp raise of his brows. “-you’re crazy.”

Kuroo’s thumb and forefinger clenched, causing the foil to crinkle. Suga tried to ignore the incessant giggling that had erupted next to them. “It’s my civic duty as a man about to purposefully enter into the sanctity of marriage.”

Suga quirked a smirk of his own this time. “Are you trying to tell me you’re never going to have sex ever again after you’re married?”

“Huh? No way!” Looking quite appalled at the implication, Kuroo flicked the packet onto the bar-top. “All I’m saying is- _have some fun,_ Suga.” 

“Have some fun.” Suga picked up the foil square, studying it a bit dubiously. “With one of your wallet condoms.” _That_ definitely got him a loud snort from either Noya or Bokuto, he wasn’t quite sure and he wasn’t really willing to turn his attention to find out.

“See, now you’re getting it.” Kuroo placed a spread hand against his chest, giving a sober incline of his head. “I can be very motivational.”

Someone slapped a hand against Kuroo’s back, the sound echoing into Suga’s ears. “Eh- thanks,” he mumbled. “I think.” 

“Now that that’s out of the way-” Kuroo announced, voice growing an octave louder with each word. “-I don’t think any of us here are drunk enough to really call this a bachelor party!” 

A horrendous round of cheers and cries of agreement roared through the entire restaurant. Some kind of alcohol in a pink shot glass was thrust into Suga’s fingers (and he was pretty sure he drank it too, if the burn in his throat and stomach was any indication) but the only thing he could really hold his mind to was the innocuous little packet staring at him from its place on the bar, taunting and intimidating and pressuring him into accepting the next shot without any hesitation. 

* * *

Even though he’d only spent five minutes in the mix of Kuroo’s party, it was quite clear to Daichi that Suga had been correct in how entirely different Kenma’s was going to be.

The restaurant, _Arancino_ , was small and intimate (somewhat similar to the guest of honor himself) and even if there lingered a tingle of something warm against his lips from where he and Suga had bid their goodbye earlier, Daichi found himself feeling at ease amongst the group of people that were still almost near-strangers to him. 

Maybe it was Hinata’s bubbly laughter overtaking the entire room as he tried to take about a dozen selfies with Kenma who, for what it was worth, managed to hold the same exact look of neutral boredom in each. Or perhaps it was the blank expression on Kageyama’s face (though looking somewhat less mutinous than usual) as he hid partially behind a tall pint of beer with too much foam. It could have been the incredibly powerful and echoing slap to the back of Lev’s (still chuckling) head given from a man nearly a foot shorter than him with caramel hair and large, severe eyes that currently held a fire that Daichi couldn’t help but smirk at.

But probably, in the end, it was due to the quiet conversation he’d struck up with his new acquaintance, Azumane Asahi. They sat together at the edge of the room, observing the other guests scattered about the restaurant and nursing a couple of strong beverages. The talk was pleasant and easy, but it did occur to Daichi that perhaps he could use this time to his advantage. 

“You’ve known Suga a while then?” he wondered, letting his gaze wonder from their scan across the room and towards the other man’s surprisingly gentle features.

Nodding, Asahi said, “I’ve known him a long time, even before university.” His eyes held a distinct fondness in them as he spoke. “Suga’s a good friend.”

Daichi had absolutely no doubts about that. From what he knew of the man he seemed quite genuine and kind and fun (if not a little easily flustered- but perhaps that was just around Daichi himself?) 

“It might sound bizarre, but I’m still trying to get a good read on him.” Daichi hoped he didn’t sound too much like he was fishing here. 

Asahi smiled softly, giving an understanding nod. “Suga can be-” the man hesitated a moment in order to come up with just the appropriate words. “-a little _unpredictable_ sometimes.”

Daichi found himself impulsively chuckling at the honest caution in the admittance. “Well, he _did_ jump off a cliff this morning.”

Asahi choked against the sip he’d (unfortunately) begun to take. “He _what?_ ”

Stifling a laugh behind his fingers, Daichi explained, “We went hiking at- _Maunawili Falls_ I think it was called?” He blinked then, thinking back on the still fresh memory. “There was a waterfall and a cliff and then jumping off of it ensued.”

Taking a large breath, Asahi nodded a couple of times, his expression slowly easing back from paranoia to simple agitation. “Knowing Kuroo and Bokuto, that doesn't actually surprise me.” He swallowed, licking at his lips. “Don’t tell Noya about that place though, please?” 

Daichi did laugh then, unable to contain his amusement at the giant’s obvious gentle nature and the little hitch in his strained voice. “Sure, but I can’t make any promises for the other people he’s currently with.”

Asahi grimaced, as if just now remembering his boyfriend’s choice of company for the evening. “I have this feeling I won’t be getting any sleep tonight,” he mumbled, nearly inaudibly.

The grudging statement only added to Daichi’s amusement, but the sentiment reminded him that Suga was also partaking in said bachelor party, and as enjoyable as Kenma’s get together was proving to be, he could only imagine the shenanigans taking place down the road from them. 

Across the room Hinata was currently engaging a waitress in what seemed like a very complicated (and possibly totally made-up) order of beverages. 

“They seem like an interesting couple. Kenma and Kuroo, I mean.” Daichi met Asahi’s curious but timid gaze and then felt a little guilty, backpedalling. “Not that a severe difference in personality is a _bad_ thing.”

Asahi’s expression was anything but offended, mainly just a touch embarrassed, a smile emanating as he probably pictured his own partner in his mind. He shrugged one large shoulder. “Opposites attract, right?”

Daichi couldn’t stop the flash of silver hair, bright grin, and shining eyes that invaded his thoughts. There was definitely something _different_ about Sugawara Koushi and he couldn’t ignore the fact that when they were together Daichi could literally _feel_ any of the voids in his personality being automatically filled with soft edges of the man he’d become so incredibly attracted to over the last few days. 

Taking a sip of his drink in order to hide the redness he could feel creeping up his neck, Daichi had to pointedly remind his suddenly nervous fingers not to clasp his glass too hard. 

“Even though Kuroo and Kenma haven’t been together that long as a couple, they’ve known each other since they were young.” Asahi gave a thoughtful nod. “It kind of puts things in perspective- makes Noya and I seem like we’re just starting out.”

_Perspective_. So where did that put he and Suga’s ‘relationship’ (for the lack of a better word?)

“Mind if I join you?” The voice was low and soft and Daichi almost didn’t register it until the chair between them was scooted out and Akaashi Keiji sat, folding his hands against the table top.

_Speaking of opposites_ , Daichi mused silently, nodding a greeting towards the man. “Enjoying the party?” he asked obligatorily.

Akaashi inclined his head, soft eyes meeting Daichi’s own. “It’s quite pleasant, I’m sure, compared to the horrors taking place at Kuroo’s right now.”

Daichi gave a wry grin. “Not missing your boyfriend, then?” he joked.

“Not missing _yours_?” Akaashi countered, voice so neutral Daichi at first thought he’d hit a nerve until the man’s lips formed a definite smirk. 

A laugh rumbled from Daichi’s throat, but he couldn’t find the words to agree nor disagree with the man’s leveling comeback. 

Akaashi let out a sigh then, turning to observe his fingers, twining them against each other, the movement habitual. “Being here is giving Bokuto wedding fever.” His lips quirked. “I’m concerned that he’s going to propose before the week is out.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” Asahi wondered, his eyes crinkling in concern. 

“Well, no.” The man’s head shook, the waves of his dark hair bouncing with the movement. “But this would not be the appropriate venue.”

It was abundantly obvious to Daichi (even from his limited interactions with the man) that Akaashi was definitely someone who enjoyed his privacy. And he too could understand the feeling, both elated and embarrassed by the amount of goading he and Suga continued to receive anytime they were near one another, even if it was totally harmless. 

Asahi was nodding his head with abundant agreement. Daichi could just picture the small bundle of energy that was Nishinoya balanced on one knee and serenading his boyfriend- quite an imaginative and entertaining sight to behold. 

“Bokuto says that he’s never seen Sugawara-san like this before-” Daichi’s eyes flicked back up at Suga’s name. “-so _flustered_ by someone, I think.” 

There was a moment where Akaashi’s gaze was so steadfast and unreadable that Daichi wasn’t quite sure what to do. It had certainly been (at least he assumed) an accurate statement. But it had been so out of the blue that Daichi found his mouth hanging open with a lack of adequate response. 

“I-” his voice caught in his throat before Akaashi’s lips spread into a grin.

“I won’t lie to you Sawamura-san. I’ve been sent to spy on Suga’s new and too-good-to-be-true boyfriend.” That actually got a broad grin from Asahi (who’d been looking increasingly nervous about the entire conversation) as well as an accompanied sigh of relief from Daichi before Akaashi continued. “But, I have no intention of interrogating you. The first time I met Kuroo he grilled me for nearly thirty-minutes straight regarding my _intentions_ with Bokuto.” 

A chuckle finally emanated from Asahi’s mouth and his eyes scrunched shut as he laughed aloud, the sound rare and warming. “Stand your ground while you can, Daichi. Our boyfriend’s are insatiable- and even if it’s a little bit harder to tell, Suga is too.” 

Daichi blinked. _Insatiable?_ So far Suga had seemed perfectly harmless, sarcastic and endearingly nervous at times, but nothing anywhere close to the scheming, over-exaggerated attitudes of his friends. Was there perhaps a side of the man he’d not yet encountered? 

“As per my best man duties, I have decided that a toast is in order!” Hinata’s shouting voice sliced through his thoughts, redirecting his vision to the small red-head along with the other’s. 

Kenma, sitting directly next to the man wildly sloshing his half-full beverage around above his head, had reverted back to hiding his reddening face with the twin curtains of bleached hair. He looked quite ready to just disappear as he slunk lower in his seat, his lips pinched in what seemed an irritated pout. “Shoyou, that’s for the wedding,” he muttered, barely audible across the room.

Shaking his head forcefully, Hinata just beamed down at him as he began to awkwardly climb up onto his chair. “No, no, we have to toast the end to your bachelorism!”

“Bachelorism isn’t a word, dumbass,” Kageyama growled with an eye roll from his other side, though the annoyance was a bit clumsy what with the way his mouth seemed to be quivering up into something akin to a painful smirk of grudging amusement.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact reason for it, but after a few seconds of hesitant and contemplative silence, the entire restaurant erupted into loud, raucous laughter, glasses raised high- with or without a toast. 

* * *

It was late when Daichi finally extricated himself from Kenma’s (admittedly pretty entertaining) party, though still the clock had not quite struck midnight. He had a pleasant buzz, nothing too inebriating, and a grin wrapping his features that he wasn’t really able to place, but also could not exactly get rid of.

After Hinata had _accidentally_ (maybe a little purposefully) fallen from his wild crowing atop a rickety barstool right into Kageyama’s lap (which then resulted in Kenma forbidding any bodily injuries taking place while he was still present) Daichi had found himself settled into a percolating conversation on volleyball with Akaashi, Asahi, and then eventually a haggard looking Yaku Morisuke after he’d given up on his odd duties of trying to wrangle a certain lanky Russian. 

Daichi was not necessarily a conversationalist by nature, but his current profession had certainly honed his skills, especially amongst strangers. But, strangers or not, it seemed within this group of people he’d felt so comfortable that he’d even broken down and told them the not-quite-mortifying ‘tooth incident’ story from his club days in high school. 

All in all, it had been great. And now, walking through the hotel’s lobby, all Daichi could think about was the sweet memory of soft skin against his lips and how he hoped desperately Suga was already in the hotel room so he could tell him about how he and Asahi had figured that they had most definitely faced one another in a match during their inter-highs and about Akaashi’s continued suspicion of his boyfriend’s overzealous romantic intentions and how harshly Kageyama had blushed (definitely not just in anger) when Hinata had wrapped wild arms around his neck when he’d refused to remove himself from his lap and Kenma’s actual verbal appreciation that they’d all come to celebrate him.

But, as life would have it, all manner of delightful and amusing thoughts were forcibly run from his mind, eddying out as a new image was dropped into place without pretense. 

There was a recess just off the tiled expanse that harbored the hotel’s bank of elevators. Normally it was lit by hot sunshine pouring through the glass doors at the end of the hallway that led out towards a glimmering pool and sunning deck, but under the darkness of night only the faintest of pale moonlight illuminated the narrow hall. 

Ordinarily Daichi’s eyes would have never been drawn to the shadowed walkway, but the sharp intake of breath and a murmuring of low, ragged words attacked his ears just as his fingers hit against the button to request an elevator carriage. His gaze followed the sound as if magnetized and then, as he caught movement only a few paces away he felt as though his entire body had been turned to stone as he met a familiar pair of shimmering eyes, over the expanse of a broad shoulder, staring straight back at him. 

He did not know Oikawa Tooru in the sense that Suga or Kuroo or even Kenma seemed to know him. 

He did not understand the nuances of the past relationship that Oikawa had shared with Suga or just what had occurred to break them up. 

He did not see whatever it was that Suga could have possibly seen in Oikawa, or for that matter, what exactly had kept the two together for as long as they’d been in the first place.

But what Daichi _did_ understand was the way a particularly dazed Oikawa was currently bracing his back against the partially shaded wall mere feet from him, their eyes locked, though the mocha-brown set was looking more and more unfocussed by the second. The man he clung to had not yet noticed their silent voyeur, busy as he was trying to crack Oikawa’s clenched jaw with the little bites and kisses he was littering up and down the man’s lithe neck. It appeared to be working as a soft, barely audible whine escaped the taller man’s lips the sound consequently breaking their bizarrely powerful eye contact.

Daichi blinked, still not quite able to tear his gaze from the proceedings, unsure of what kind of emotions were brewing just below his ribcage. He recognized the other man now, that short, spiky brown hair and those broad shoulders and confident hands that had now wrapped against Oikawa’s wrists to pin him more effectively in place. 

The elevator chimed, though the sound was a mere faint buzz in Daichi’s head. Oikawa struggled but Iwaizumi only held him tighter, a forceful knee nudging between his legs as if he’d been spurred on by the possibility of someone stumbling upon them.

_Little did he know..._ Daichi’s eyes finally clenched, his head shaking as he turned on his heel and rushed into the newly opened carriage, stabbing towards the button denoting the eighth floor. 

Once the doors slid shut, Daichi let out a ragged sigh before swallowing hard. Why had that rattled him so much? To see two people kissing so heavily in plain sight- no, that hadn’t been it. To see _Oikawa_ kissing someone ( _being kissed by someone_ ) so heavily in plain sight- had that been it?

But- that was none of his business. In fact, it really wasn’t anyone’s business even if Iwaizumi had seen it fit not to hide their debauchery from anyone happening to pass by. Daichi swallowed again, realizing that his pleasant buzz from earlier had somehow morphed into a light headache at the back of his head, the sensation making his mind feel dizzy. 

Suga wasn’t in their room. This was both fortunate and problematic because that meant that Daichi could calm whatever nerve had so suddenly hit deep within him, but also it meant that Suga could just as likely stumble across that display if the two didn’t find a room as soon as humanly possible. 

Daichi wasn’t sure what that would do to Suga. He also wasn’t entirely sure he’d be prepared to handle the situation whether Suga’s reaction was complacent, horrified, or some weird, hybrid combination of the two. 

He busied himself with shoving a clean glass under the tap and forcing himself to drink. This meant- this meant that Oikawa was-

But he’d been under the impression that Oikawa wanted Suga back. Had he been mistaken in telling his ‘date’ that things had been working, that his ex seemed quite jealous? Had he filled the man with false hope? 

Why did he care? _Why did he care?_ Certainly this was above his pay-grade.

Suga’s smile (the crinkling one that was so wide it caused his eyes to squint shut) flashed through his mind and he managed to take a few steadying breaths, his chest swelling at the memory. Dammit, of course he cared. 

_Suga was- Suga just- Suga didn’t-_

Suga- he deserved better anyways, right?

* * *

It was nearly one o’clock in the morning and Suga couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt his flesh tingle with something other than a flush of anxiety. It was a good thing he’d forced himself to stop drinking after Kuroo and Bokuto had stormed the bar-top in order to sing a horrible rendition of  _Don’t Stop Believing_ (the booze had definitely added  _something_ to their english, but it wasn’t anything good.)

At some point there had also been some sort of game involving multicolored rings being tossed at a terrifyingly realistic cock that had been stuck to one of the high-top tables. Noya had been highly skilled in this and for some reason that didn’t really bother or surprise anyone. 

In the end, the only reason Suga had stayed as long as he had was due to the fact that around (roughly) beverage number twelve Kuroo had become somewhat emotional and Suga had to profusely assure him that he would _yes_ use the condom burning a whole in his pocket and also promise (cross his heart and hope to die) that he would come visit more often. 

And now, as he rode up in the silent and desolate elevator, said condom seemed to vibrate against his skin as his hand brushed against the foil in his pocket. Suga’s head felt clouded and there was a warmth in his stomach that he could not entirely blame on the alcohol left to soak there. His lips pursed as he tried to direct his mind into thinking of anything other than hot breath at the shell of his ear and the way Daichi’s mouth had taunted against his skin mere hours before. Unfair, that had been so very _unfair_ of him. 

In his other hand the bills he’d so recently plucked from the lobby’s ATM felt unnatural between his clenched fingertips. Suga turned his gaze down to stare at the money, feeling entirely idiotic but also unable to deny the lightning sensation that was running down his spine at the associated thought. The elevator doors opened just as he was willfully stuffing the bills as quickly as possible into his wallet with little care.

The room was dark when he entered, though the soft moonlight pooling against the carpet provided just enough light for him to see by without reaching for the nearest light-switch. He inhaled, toeing off his shoes, attempting to breath evenly but the buzz of alcohol attacking his senses still had him annoyingly disoriented. 

Suga tried his best to be silent, to pad across the carpet and slide into bed as soft as a whisper. But the sight of Daichi, curled on his stomach, covers lightly tossed over legs askew and revealing the sharp muscles of his backside- Suga let out a breathy gasp. He’d totally lost all control (alcohol or not) and he knew it for certain now. 

If it had been him asleep on that bed, the little noise would not have hindered his dreams in the slightest, but it seemed Daichi was a lighter sleeper, his body shuffling to turn on his side to find Suga in the darkness with squinting eyes. 

“Hey.” Suga found that his mouth was barely working, the word sounding out-of-breath and at an entirely lower octave than he had ever been known to speak in before.

Daichi blinked, rubbing fingers against fluttering eyelids. The movement was ordinary, but Suga had never seen anything more gut-wrenching in his life. However, it felt like Daichi could have done just about _anything_ in that moment and Suga would have found his body burning for him. 

Fingers skirted back into his pocket and played against the edge of the foil square residing there. His skin tingled and now he could not determine whether that was from the alcohol still coursing through his veins, or something else altogether. 

A little line of pink alerted Suga to Daichi’s mouth as he ran his tongue out to wet his lips before speaking. “Are you okay?” the man asked, voice still a bit muffled by sleep. 

_Okay?_ Suga wasn’t sure of the answer. He was okay in the sense that Daichi was probably meaning- _physically_ he was fine. Mentally? Emotionally? Now that was a different story. 

Suga nodded his head once, eyes suddenly feeling a bit heavy though his muscles still ached with the adrenaline and desire he’d allowed himself to incite on the elevator ride up. 

Without waiting for a response Suga found his feet carrying him towards the bed, still so large and intimidating but now somehow much more inviting than the day they’d first arrived to find it. His hands landed on the edge, the duvet pillowing beneath his skin as he crawled wordlessly into bed.

Daichi turned onto his back to follow his movements, his eyes curious. Suga paused just as he’d nearly made it across the other man’s legs and to his side of the bed, turning his gaze and feeling a sudden spike of something uncontrollable flooding through him. 

Angling his body, Suga changed courses drastically. He braced knees on either side of Daichi’s thighs, crawling across his body in order to hover his lips directly over Daichi’s. 

“Suga.” His name was but a breath against the flushed skin of his mouth and before Daichi could add anything more Suga closed the space between them, bringing their lips together, silencing the other man in one fluid motion. 

Suga’s hands trembled as they studied Daichi’s shoulders and biceps and chest. They ran along his skin, his palms feeling scorched by the direct contact. Dipping his tongue easily into the other man’s mouth he felt Daichi’s vibrating moan flow up and catch at the back of his own throat. 

This is what he’d been waiting for, what he’d been secretly desiring since that first brush of lips against his cheek upon their introduction. Tentatively Daichi brought his own fingers up to tangle in Suga’s hair, run patterns down his back and across his neck sending goosebumps flaring against his ivory skin. 

They kissed, slow and long, until finally Suga leaned back, gasping for a breath of air and staring at Daichi through half-lidded eyes. “Is this okay?” he thought to ask, just before the lust took possession of his mind to the point of no return. 

It looked as though Daichi was fighting off the same loss of control, his eyes dark saucers in the dim moonlight that filtered across their tangled bodies. “Yes,” he confirmed, voice heavy and rumbling with need. 

Suga felt his heart skip as Daichi’s hips lifted beneath his, the new contact sending his muscles into uncontrollable tremors. Hands found their way to his own hips, latching onto the prominent bones there and pulling down hard until, suddenly, it seemed that Suga was no longer claiming exclusive control over the situation. 

Their mouths glided back together, wet and hot, this time Daichi’s teeth tugging deviantly against Suga’s lower lip. The sharp sensation emitted a low whine from within his throat, something he might’ve been embarrassed of if his mind weren’t so intensely distracted. 

Suga’s back arched as Daichi sat forward, pushing himself into the other man’s space and cleaving lips against the sensitive skin of his neck, sucking powerfully enough to leave a mark. Feeling blood pooling at the surface, trickling towards the teeth that walked the line of pain and pleasure, there came another intractable gasp.

“Suga-” Daichi’s breath seared against his skin. “What do you-” his voice sounded suffocated as lips moved just beneath Suga’s ear with every word. “-what do you _want_?”

A wave crashed against him, his mind awash with memories and desires so palpable now that their flesh was fitted against one another. Suga’s voice was hushed, but when his eyes opened to gaze down at the strong hands wrapped around him, any and all hesitation vanished. “You,” he whispered. 

The movement of Daichi’s face turning up to meet his sent another shiver through them both. “Are you sure?” he said, voice thick.

Suga’s fingers came up to rest against the man’s jaw, kissing against his lips, feather-soft. He smiled then, because the answer was clear. 

He nodded once, definitively. “Without a doubt.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe this sin was more of a prelude into sin for the next chapter. But still, _it's finally happening._ ( _But,_ will this mean any complications for our fated couple? We shall see.)
> 
> Also, if I were to write a companion Iwaoi piece for this universe would anyone be interested in reading it? (I may or may not already have a little something in the works) It wouldn't be a full-fledged multi-chapter like this, but at least a lengthier one-shot? 
> 
> Any other side stories people would be interested in here? I'm open for ideas! (Here is [The Tumblr](http://h-lovely.tumblr.com/))


	10. (Suga) How'd You Get So Fly?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It was obscene, the way Suga was moving against him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering, yes the chapter title is directly inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPW5A_JyXCY).
> 
> Also, I cannot believe I wrote an entire chapter of unadulterated smut. (Enjoy, my friends.)

**** The way Suga moved was mesmerizing. 

Daichi held onto him with firm hands, as if the man would dissolve back into a dream if he were not careful. Suga’s breath mingled with his own, their lips brushing and barely touching, the swollen skin teasing and tongues flicking to retrieve what contact they could. 

The undulating motion of Suga’s hips made it hard to concentrate, stimulating and sweet and still seeming so unattainable. Daichi could not contain the strained breath released as fingers danced at the taught muscles just above the increasingly annoying edge of his briefs. 

He thought perhaps, as a hot mouth latched onto the lobe of his ear, that Suga would just taunt, but then a swift hand pulled at the fabric to reveal his erection, aching as cool air rushed across the skin. 

“Suga,” he breathed out, lips catching in quicksilver hair before traveling down the edge of a soft temple. Daichi could not form any coherent thought other than the definite, cloying need to strip the man atop him of the entirely unfair layer of clothing still between them. 

He sucked air into his lungs as fingers tickled against the skin of his cock, teasing like he’d predicted earlier, and brought his hands to catch at the hem of Suga’s shirt, the hibiscus-laden fabric slick against his skin as he pulled up, suddenly impatient. 

Suga, with a pleased hum, allowed himself to be stripped of the garment even if it caused his hands to relocate from the heat of Daichi’s arousal. Their eyes met then, hazel glowing like embers in the shadows. 

Daichi’s gaze became transfixed against translucent skin, mapping out the little beauty marks that littered Suga’s collar, chest, abdomen, all the way down to the pair resting within the dip just above his right hip. The undying urge to pulse his lips against each and every one of them became almost too much to possibly handle. 

In a swift motion Daichi surged forward, guiding Suga’s body flat against the bed with one hand wrapped around his waist and the other at his neck. The other man gasped at the sudden movement, the sudden exchange of power, but his lips quirked to meet Daichi’s hungry gaze with clear approval. 

His kisses were sloppy as he trailed across soft, milky skin, tongue flicking out across a pert nipple before gliding down the edge of a lean abdomen until he reached the marks nestled against sensitive skin and sharp, grip-able bone. 

Daichi’s lips seized the skin, teeth pulling and tongue laving until he received the reaction he’d been waiting for. Suga groaned and his hips bucked involuntarily and that’s when Daichi’s fingers set to work unbuttoning his shorts and pulling with little tact to reveal a pale cock beaded with pre-cum. 

He swallowed at the site, wetting his lips before meeting Suga’s eyes gazing down at him. “Is this okay?” he asked, mimicking the man’s earlier question.

Suga’s voice was breathy but confident. “Yes,” he affirmed with little hesitation. 

Daichi considered for a moment if he should deepen the conversation, explain to this man the emotions he could feel coursing through his body, beating against his ribcage. But the only thing he could manage was a whispered, “Beautiful,” before he settled himself on his stomach between Suga’s bare thighs. 

With ease he pulled at Suga’s left leg, draping it across his back and leaning against the other to wrap the man in a warm embrace. He allowed one arm to drape against Suga’s abdomen, holding him steady, while the other curled around his bent leg to place fingers at the base of his shaft. 

The position had Suga so physically wrapped up that Daichi could feel every tremor and twitch of his body as he allowed his tongue to twist against the man’s cockhead. 

“Ah,” Suga choked out, the noise spurring Daichi to fully envelop him. He sighed against the length, sucked half of it down and could feel the sloppy wetness appearing against his stretched lips. A shiver flared down his own spine at the thought. 

He could count the amount of times he’d done this sort of thing on one hand, and he wouldn’t even need all five fingers. He’d been paid for it, once. He’d enjoyed it two of those times. The very first time he didn’t really care to think about. 

But this- _this_ was so entirely _different_. 

Daichi’s heart swelled at the soft whimpering tickling against his ears. Suga’s hips were unsteady, twitching against his splayed hands to gain more access into his mouth. Daichi happily obliged, allowing the man to push upwards, in as far as he could before inducing his gag reflex. 

“D-Daichi- hah-” Suga’s voice was teetering on the edge of actual hysteria. His body started to pull away, but the mouth at his cock and the soft bed beneath him gave very little room to escape. “Ah- Dai- _please_.”

With a slow, wet pop Daichi released him. He purposefully ignored the way his own hardness jumped at the breathy shortening of his name in favor of nuzzling against Suga’s trembling thigh. “Yes?” he asked after the room became devoid of anything other than soft, short breaths of the man beneath him. 

Daichi watched Suga’s throat clench as he swallowed before turning his gaze downwards, something shining in his eyes. “You don’t expect me to let _you_ have all the fun, do you?” 

Brows furrowing, Daichi was struck by the oddity of his words. Wasn’t Suga the one having the _fun_ here? _Unless_ \- but he didn’t get anymore time to try and riddle the man out before Suga’s legs were slipping out of his grasp and agile fingers were tickling against his side until Daichi flipped onto his back and met that satisfied and shutter-inducing smirk hovering over his lips.

Suga’s tongue danced at his lower lip, but did not enter like Daichi so desperately wanted it to. He could feel hands running across his chest, tracing every dip of his muscles, and sending shivers across his skin. 

And then, without warning, Suga’s lips were gone- an obscenely wet noise signaling their retreat. The bed lifted slightly with his absence and Daichi could make out the pad of footsteps across the room before he was fully able get his muscles around to functioning again. 

Easing himself up onto his elbows, Daichi backed his body against the pillow-laden head of the bed, the cushions still fairly pristine save for the wrinkled one he’d been using before he’d been so unexpectedly (and pleasantly) awakened. So by the time his eyes found Suga again in the semi-darkness the man’s pale frame was already making its way back towards him, though the fingers of his right hand were now clutching something new. 

Suga nearly bounced as his knees landed against the edge of the mattress, face alight with something Daichi couldn’t quite process and, as the man began to crawl up his body for the second time that night, he felt perhaps a bit ill-prepared for what his ‘boyfriend’ had up his sleeve. 

_Suga can be- a little unpredictable sometimes._

Daichi swallowed at the thought, relishing the warmth that still resided on his tongue- the memory of Suga’s flesh against his taste buds. 

Lips met his own, surprisingly chaste. Daichi’s eyes had to blink against the darkness engulfing them before he could truly take in the man currently straddling his stomach. Suga’s hands were soft at his shoulders, a gentle reminder, and his skin glowed moon-like in the shadows. Eyelashes fluttered, translucent silver, spread like thick webs over those honey-speckled irises. That delicate smirk full and pink from overuse. 

Daichi had never seen anything quite like him ever before. 

He moved his mouth upwards to meet Suga, lips brushing first at the edge of his ivory jaw before skirting to rest at his cupid’s bow, the sharp bevel of flesh velvet beneath the gentle kiss. 

Suga’s exhale was a rushed sigh, the sensation collecting against Daichi’s skin like dew. He breathed in deep the scent of lemon-grass, salt, and the faint warmth of liquor. His lips travelled down Suga’s neck, creating nonsensical designs with his tongue and teeth only to be halted when the man atop him arched into a moan, his backside coming to rest at the hardness Daichi had nearly forgotten. 

“Oh,” Suga gasped out, eyes clearing as he refocussed on the man he held beneath him. Daichi’s teeth sunk into his lower lip as Suga reinitiated the contact, grinding backwards experimentally. 

His skin was soft and warm, sinfully so. Suga pressed his ass against Daichi’s cock with a genuine smile of satisfaction that had the other man groaning openly and much louder than he might’ve anticipated.

Daichi’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, his focus being greatly tested, until a kiss brushed against the tip of his nose and his lids peeled open to find Suga’s eyes aglow. 

“Don’t come,” came the hushed command and (regardless of the quiver the tone produced) that’s when Daichi knew he was done for. 

It was obscene, the way Suga was moving against him.

At first he just ground down, those smooth cheeks rubbing Daichi’s hardness to coax beads of pre-cum and force the man’s attention to Suga, and only Suga. Not that there was anything else in the universe that could possibly pull him away now. 

Daichi watched as a confident hand found Suga’s own cock, palming it, creases forming between his brows at the sensation. In a swift motion he’d lifted his body up and wiggled backwards to slide their erections against one another, the burning, need-evoking feeling nearly too much for the both of them. 

“ _Don’t_ come,” Suga said again, his voice much more ragged than before. Perhaps this time the command had not been solely for Daichi’s ears alone.

He rutted against Daichi, lips caught between teeth that had the other man’s hands twitching to reach up and drag him forward for another kiss. But then Suga’s eyes snapped open and the haze of desire seemed to dissipate as if a switch had been flicked inside his head. Fingers reached out beside him, not breaking eye contact with Daichi, and retrieved what he was looking for with minimal effort. 

The tube was small, travel size, and Daichi almost found himself laughing at the thought. He was so wrapped up in Suga, in the singularly mind-altering sensations taking over his body that he felt almost giddy, so needy with want that he could not seem to control the smirk that was tugging at his lips. 

Suga stared down at him, watching Daichi with a smile of his own, though this one holding something much more feral. The tube clicked loudly in the blaring silence of their room, the gel shining against his fingertips, beckoning. 

Daichi swallowed, feeling his cock twitch as Suga moved up into a kneeling position that put his body on shameless display. He couldn’t see it happening, but Daichi knew the moment the first finger had entered by the soft, but uncomfortable expression that flittered across Suga’s features. 

Bringing a hand up to rest against the outside of Suga’s thigh, Daichi pressed his own fingers into the lean muscle rubbing circles across the flesh in a soothing manner that managed to release a contented sigh from the flushed mouth above him. 

There came a groan and flick of his arm and Daichi could only imagine that a second finger had been added and suddenly Suga’s face was constricting into something else altogether. He let out a breath of rushed air and, for a brief moment, his eyes glazed over completely. 

Daichi couldn’t stand it any longer. His jaw was clenched and he tightened his grip on Suga’s leg to grab the man’s attention. “Why are you doing that?” he bit out. 

“W-what?” Suga’s brows furrowed in confusion, his tongue flicked against his lower lip as he focussed on the man beneath him and attempted to form the appropriate explanation. “Daichi-”

“No-” Daichi’s voice was thick as he interrupted. “Why are _you_ doing that?”

It took a second for realization to strike, but then Suga’s breath hitched and Daichi’s hand clamped against his wrist, tugging gently. “May I?” he thought to ask, just before Suga removed his fingers at his own volition.

Suga’s mouth opened to reply, but the words were quickly replaced with a shivering keen as two fingers entered him at once. His muscles clenched upon the initial intrusion, but after a few gentle strokes his entire body slacked and he managed to push down against Daichi with little restraint. That had been answer enough. 

Daichi pressed in, searching until he found the spot that began to wholly unravel the man above him. Suga’s whine and the way his body fell to brace hands against Daichi’s shoulders was more than enough to cause his own neglected cock to throb. 

Suga’s lips found his own, needy and the kiss was sloppy and wet and entirely wonderful. He groaned into Daichi’s mouth as fingers brushed against his prostate and when their lips parted there was a string of saliva and Suga’s breathing was heavier than it had ever been before. 

Daichi chased away the sloppiness with his tongue and then Suga was speaking, rushed and harsh against the skin of his jaw. “I-I’m ready.” 

It took Daichi a minute to actually stop, to actually pull out and away from that heat and the immense pleasure he’d been forcing upon Suga. The easy control he’d had- it was intoxicating.

But then he met Suga’s eyes again and he saw past those hazel irises and the dark pools of his blown pupils to what lay beneath, something he was not sure he was quite prepared for. Before he moved Suga kissed against the corner of his mouth, something reassuring about the gesture, and then a second later he was clenching a foil packet between his teeth.

The sound of the condom being torn open combined with the look of suddenly collected confidence in Suga’s movements had Daichi’s hips flinching upwards on impulse. 

He groaned as Suga rolled the condom down his length, the anticipation becoming entirely too much and he was not so sure how long he was going to be able to last. Daichi watched the other man adjusting his kneeling stance above him and all of a sudden he realized just what was about to happen. 

“Suga, you don’t-” Daichi’s voice clenched as a ring of muscle brushed against the tip of his cock.

“I know.” Suga’s words were a scalding whisper as they entered his mind. “I _want_ to.” 

Daichi might’ve responded, but something white-hot filled his mind and his tongue was suddenly unresponsive to any words he could have possibly said in that moment. It was only an inch maybe, but the way Suga’s mouth was breaking into a smile of utter pleasure as he slid onto Daichi’s hardness was so captivating that Daichi nearly forgot to breathe. 

“Dai-” the name was pulled from Suga’s throat as he lowered himself further, allowing his body to adjust every few centimeters or so. But it wasn’t until he was fully seated, until Daichi found that his muscles had stopped trembling so furiously, and their eyes connected that Suga let out a hum of assent and began to lift himself back up. 

Hands were placed firmly against Daichi’s chest and he realized he had no idea (and little to no decision making skills at the moment) where to put his own hands until Suga was lacing fingers with his own and pressing forward enough for Daichi’s hips to raise up a little with each downward thrust.

They worked in time like this, finding a rhythm together as Suga’s lips trailed across Daichi’s throat and Daichi curled upward to give Suga just the right angle. He found it easily and the sound that echoed out of Suga’s chest was one that he would never be able to forget as it set off a rampage of goosebumps across his flesh. 

“I-I’m close.” Daichi’s mouth was finally working again and he felt obligated to warn Suga because he wasn’t entirely certain that he would be able to hold back much longer. 

As he thrust inward, Daichi managed to drag another whine from Suga. “Ah- me too- so close- Daichi-”

He didn’t need anymore direction than that as Daichi untangled one of his hands from Suga’s to reach down and clasp against the hard flesh of the man’s leaking erection. 

He began to pump in time to their mutual rhythm, fingers mingling with slick pre-cum. Daichi could feel how tense Suga had become and just the thought brought about that familiar, trembling heat in his gut. 

When he came his thighs ached and twitched and his thrusts became irregular, but it seemed that was just enough to send Suga falling over the edge after him. There was a gasp and Daichi looked up just in time to catch the ethereal glow of pleasure that flowed from Suga, lips twisted in a crooked smile as warm cum jetted out against Daichi’s abdomen. 

The hazy, comfortable drowsiness hit Daichi almost instantly, but then there was soft lips grazing his own and his eyes fluttered back open to meet Suga’s sweet smile and half-lidded gaze. 

There was a muffled little groan when Suga managed to slide himself off of Daichi and then his body flopped down onto the bed and he nuzzled into Daichi’s side like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Trying not to disturb the blond too much Daichi pulled off the condom, tying it before dropping it to the floor with a little cringe. He’d take care of it in the morning, probably even before Suga woke up. The mess against his abs was swept up with the boxer briefs he had no intention of wriggling back into.

For a brief moment, eyes closed and breathing finally evening back out, Daichi assumed that Suga had already drifted off to sleep. He couldn’t stop his hand from brushing against the man’s pale shoulder, tickling the warm skin and relishing in the way it felt beneath his fingers. 

He thought about Oikawa and Iwaizumi for only the amount of time it took for the unexpected memory to flash across his mind before he forcibly dissolved it, banishing it to the recesses in favor of more pleasant images of the man currently curling against his chest. 

A moment later he was surprised to hear a soft murmuring somewhere below him and then Suga, very much still awake, turned his head up a fraction to try and catch Daichi’s gaze. “I need to tell you something,” Suga said, almost too soft for Daichi to hear.

Nodding, he brushed a feather-soft lock of hair from the other man’s forehead. He was unsure of what to expect, suddenly feeling an odd sensation of concern flittering through him. “What is it?” he prompted anyways. 

“I think I-” Daichi’s body tensed. “Dai- I-” _No, don’t say it, not like this. Don’t say that._ Mind racing, he watched Suga’s intake of breath. “I _like_ like you.” 

Daichi’s lungs exhaled the air he’d not exactly realized he’d been holding. He smiled then suppressing a chuckle, because this- _this_ was okay. He could handle this.

His thumb rubbed against the smooth skin harboring that delicate little beauty mark hovering beneath soft lashes. Daichi ignored the way Suga squirmed in near-annoyance at his clear reverence of what the owner probably thought of as a flaw. 

It was anything but. 

Daichi swallowed before he whispered back, “I _like_ like you too, Suga.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, it's a little short- but _to the point._ Thank you for your constant support, I bow to you all.
> 
> At the moment I am currently in Iwaoi hell, so expect that project sometime relatively soon. I've also got two ideas for Kuroken, but those (along with some type of Kagehina nonsense) will be posted a bit later on, probably after this original story comes to more of a close. 
> 
> Also, I recently posted an extensive list of writing prompts on tumblr, so if you're interested [here it is](http://h-lovely.tumblr.com/post/142631002113/54-writing-prompts). Send me a number and a pairing (my preferences are in the tags, but I'm up for pretty much anything) and I will write you a drabble/oneshot because hey, I just can't get enough of this fandom.


	11. Stay With Me (Sway With Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Trouble in paradise?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noteworthy upcoming events: Daisuga angst (if you can call it that), snarky Kuroo, Tsukkiyama if you squint, and barely there Iwaoi (surprise!)

The bed was warm and soft, a pillow of clouds beneath him that beckoned to force him back into the wonderfully dream-filled sleep he’d just begun to wake up from. 

Suga’s eyes scrunched but did not open. A sweet and comforting aroma of jasmine caused his nose to twitch and he brought lazy fingers up to sweep across his face, his entire body still feeling entirely languid and, to be perfectly honest, totally blissed out. 

“Suga.” His name sounded so intoxicating coming in the form of that deep, velvet voice he’d grown so recently addicted to. He rubbed his eyelids with the heel of his hand until he was finally able crack them open.

A silky kiss against his forehead proved to be the thing to truly awaken him however, his arms reaching up without hesitation to wrap around the inclined neck hovering over him. He pulled until his lips met Daichi’s own and kissed him with rather more fervor than he’d thought possible for how little sunlight had yet to filter into their room. 

“Asahi was right-” Daichi broke the kiss to chuckle against the edge of his mouth. “-you _are_ insatiable.” 

_Asahi? Insatiable?_ Suga blinked against the sleep that still fogged his vision. His head ached, the tiniest annoyance pounding just behind his eyes. He followed Daichi’s movements (the man already looked entirely ready for the day, dressed and showered, and beaming over a tray of what looked to be breakfast) as he forced himself to sit up, brows furrowing, and really wrap his mind around things. 

Things. What things? _Oh, right-_

He tried desperately to suppress the gasp that caught in his throat at the memory (the amazingly glorious memory) of what had happened between them the night before. The little noise caused Daichi to look up, but his soft grin did not falter. 

“I’m not sure what works for you when it comes to hangovers,” Daichi spoke quietly, like he might startle Suga if he didn’t. “But I brought tea and coffee and toast to start.” 

Suga swallowed as he glanced towards the small side table and couch now being used as a makeshift breakfast nook. Yes, he supposed he was a bit hungover. But, perhaps not quite as much as Daichi assumed. 

“T-that’s so kind of you.” The words nearly got lost in a jumble in his mouth, not quite coming out right as though he were still asleep. (And maybe he was! That would have certainly been preferable.)

His clothes from the night before still lay mingled with Daichi’s on the floor next to the bed. His wallet that was stuffed full of bills he’d so impulsively (and drunkenly) retrieved hanging dangerously half-way out of the back pocket of his shorts.

He could feel the pinkness rising in his cheeks as Daichi nodded to him attentively. “But-” Suga tried to bite his tongue to keep himself from speaking, but it backfired wildly. “I need to ask you- what happened last night?” 

_Stupid! Why was he self-sabotaging like this?_ Over-thinking had gotten him into a lot of messes in his life before, but certainly this one was going to take the cake. 

“Oh, you-” Daichi had to swallow once, visibly, to get the words out. “-you don’t remember?”

_Yes, yes he remembered! He remembered every gut-wrenching, skin-searing, tear-shedding minute of it!_ “T-things are just a little _fuzzy_ , I guess.”

Daichi’s face dropped and the weight of the expression that followed made Suga want to physically lay down and cry until his chest hurt and his sobs ran dry. _No, no, no, no._ This was not how he had planned this to go. Why was he doing this? Why was he lying like this? Why- _why in the hell was he letting this happen?_

All because he was feeling insecure?

“Nothing.” Daichi’s voice broke his internal panic, shook him to his core because it was deep again and louder than just a moment before and full of something so dejected that Suga had to curl his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from crying out. 

“Nothing happened,” Daichi repeated, adding a faded little smile that looked all-too painful and entirely artificial. He was attempting to reassure- but was the attempt for Suga or for _himself?_

In his haste to come up with something, _anything_ worthwhile to say Suga jumped up from the bed spluttering, “I-I’m going to shower- before the tea gets cold.” 

Halfway through slamming the bathroom door shut he felt his stomach lurch, but nothing happened other than a few gut-wrenching breaths and the sudden appearance of a cold sweat forming at every single angle of his body. 

The water did nothing to soothe away his aches and concerns. It was much too hot, scalding against his skin and turning it a harsh pink, but Suga couldn't even focus enough to adjust the temperature. 

Just as he was becoming coherent enough to try and actually collect himself the sound of footsteps alerted him barely in time for the sliding glass of the shower to be thrust open and a scowling Daichi to appear amidst the steam.

The yelp Suga let loose from his mouth was only mildly mortifying compared to the fact that he impulsively went to cover himself from the man that had, just hours before, seen him in all of his naked glory without a modest care in the world. 

“Sugawara Koushi, what is _this_?”

Suga’s eyes blew wide as a stack of all-too-familiar bills were thrust towards his face. “Er- it’s money, Daichi.”

The man struck him with an entirely unimpressed look that had Suga shrinking even more under his gaze. “Six hundred and seventy-five U.S. dollars?” 

Suga gulped, shivering a bit as the cool air of their room started to attack his damp skin. “Y-yes, it appears to be.”

“For last night?” demanded Daichi. 

“No!” Suga squeaked, not thinking in anything other than panic as he started to babble. “Of course not- it’s- _nothing_ happened, so how could it be-”

Daichi’s lips pursed but the more neutral expression did nothing to placate Suga’s nerves. “If I was going to charge you I would have said so.” 

“I-I didn’t mean-” Suga huffed out a rushed and unstable breath, eyes flicking between Daichi’s face and the incriminating monetary evidence. “I didn’t want you to- to think I was expecting anything for free.”

“Expecting anything?” Daichi’s brow quirked in terrifying confusion. 

“Or expecting _anything at all!_ ” Suga blurted. “I mean, I guess- obviously I was expecting _something_ or I- I wouldn’t have-” he gestured awkwardly towards the money Daichi still held between his powerfully clenched fingers. 

Daichi’s lips quirked dangerously as his jaw clenched. “ _Obviously_.”

“Dai-” but the man was already turning on his heel and leaving Suga to growl in his dust, grabbing at a towel and wrapping it around his lower half as his embarrassment slowly boiled over into frustration. 

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized this would _offend_ you so much,” Suga hissed out as he managed to catch Daichi at the elbow halfway to the door. “Isn’t that a part of your _job_?” 

Daichi spun, using his extra inch of height to tower over Suga, expression tight and eyes burning. But when he spoke, his voice was much softer (and all the more menacing) than had been expected. “Yes, this is a job, thank you for reminding me of that. And believe me, if anything _had_ happened it would have been one of the highlights-” his mouth pulled up smugly. “- _for you_.”

Heart clenching against his ribs, Suga bit the inside of his cheek, _hard_. “But nothing did happen,” he bit out, voice hushed. 

Daichi’s suddenly pleasant smile was terrifying. “And that’s why I won’t be taking your money.” He removed himself from Suga’s personal space then. “I’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re ready,” he threw back over his shoulder just before the door slammed after him. 

With a groan Suga realized what Daichi meant just as his cell phone buzzed from somewhere near the bed. It was a text from one Kuroo Tetsurou filled with entirely too many emojis consisting of little kissy faces and salsa dancers and reminding him that their next (suddenly very annoying) bridal party activity was starting in T-minus twenty minutes. 

* * *

There was music playing softly in the background, some sort of soft, rhythmic big-band tune that Suga found quite contrary to the red-hot emotions coursing through him and also in great contrast to the personality that had sidled up next to him the moment he’d entered the parquet-floored ballroom.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Suga’s eyes were too busy staring at the man making comfortable conversation with Akaashi and Bokuto across the room to throw Kuroo the icy glare he deserved at that particular comment. 

“I’m really not in the mood, Kuroo,” he bit out instead, not breaking his gaze away from Daichi. The man was now (so aggravatingly) laughing one of his full-bodied laughs at something Bokuto had said in Kenma’s (game console in hand) direction as if not a single thing had happened between them less than a half-hour previous. 

Kuroo chuckled darkly. “Didn’t you make use of my little gift last night?” 

Finally able to rip his vision away from his ‘date,’ Suga’s scowl was powerful enough to make even Kuroo back off, suddenly nervous. “Okay, okay, sorry I asked,” he muttered in genuine surrender. 

With a rough sigh, Suga attempted to reign in some of his palpable annoyance. After all, it wasn’t Kuroo’s fault ( _exactly_ ) and he should really be trying harder to not put a damper on things with his sudden raincloud of negativity. 

It wasn’t totally working out for him. “ _Why_ do we have to do this?” he mumbled with a pout.

Kuroo’s hand was heavy against his shoulder. “Apparently at weddings one of the very important traditions is _dancing_.” The man’s crooked smile flashed with obvious snark. “Who knew?” 

Shrugging off the joke, Suga let out a sigh. “I already know how to dance.”

Kuroo just pinched the tendon between his neck and shoulder causing Suga to flinch involuntarily. “C’mon, it’ll be _fun_.”

Fun. _Hah, yeah right._ There was no chance in hell that it would be _fun_ to dance with the man he’d so severely pissed off this morning- especially considering the fact that his ‘boyfriend’ had been acting ever so pleasant in front of everyone else. How convenient for him. 

“ _Iwa-chan!_ ” 

The voice that echoed in through the doorway made Suga jump, instantly on edge. But, contrary to all of the other times so far on their trip, when Oikawa breezed past he and Kuroo it was without saucy greeting, superficial smirk, or jealous glare. In fact, it seemed the only thing Oikawa was so determinedly focussed on was the way he was practically _dragging_ the man trailing grudgingly behind him across the room towards a couple of young men both wearing Kahala polos that Suga found vaguely familiar, but couldn’t quite place. 

“Tsukishima, what are you doing here?” Iwaizumi grunted, finally ripping his hand away from Oikawa to cross arms over his chest and stare upwards towards the tall blond. 

“I could ask you the same thing-” Tsukishima replied cooly, a clear simper attacking his lips. “ _-Iwa-chan_.” 

For a second Suga was quite sure Iwaizumi was going to deck his provoking co-worker, if the throbbing vein that appeared against his forehead had anything at all to say about it, but then Kuroo (of course) was stepping forward and calling everyone’s attention to himself with a well-placed quirk of his brow. 

“Yamaguchi!” The shorter of the two, a thin dark-haired young man with a smattering of freckles across his nose looked over as he tried to control the obvious snicker brought about by his friend’s words. “I see our little activity coordinator’s got himself a new dance partner,” Kuroo drawled, grinning first at Yamaguchi and then over to Tsukishima to make sure he’d garnered his attention as well. The look of clear annoyance on the blond’s face proved that he, indeed, had. 

“Well, Yachi was supposed to be here,” the freckled man explained simply. “But she got held up and Tsukki volunteered.”

“I did _not_ volunteer,” Tsukishima bit out, almost incredulous. 

“Well, Tsukki was available and said he would help,” Yamaguchi went on, without hesitation, not even bothering a second glance at the man now scowling next to him, as if the salt had been well expected. 

“Probably after sexual favors were offered,” Kuroo uttered in a (barely) hushed tone. And even though it was clear the two had heard (along with near everyone else in the vicinity) neither seemed to be at all fazed by their coworker’s sharp tongue. 

“Kuroo!” Suga stepped forward, openly appalled even if no one else was. By now their little conversation had garnered the attentions of their fellow companions as they walked over to join them, though Suga pointedly ignored the fact that Daichi was (very purposefully) keeping at least two people between them at all times. 

“What? They’re an item and Yamaguchi is a minx, seriously.” Kuroo shot him an entirely matter-of-fact look, as though he had no idea what he could have possibly done wrong. “He’s like you- sweet on the outside and a total viper on the-” but the rest of his words were lost as Suga’s elbow found its way sharply into his side.

“Would you shut up,” he hissed. “Daichi’s liable to hear you.”

The smirk that wrapped Kuroo’s features had Suga’s insides curdling. “Heh, I have a feeling he’s already seen that little side of you, Sugawara.”

The sudden weight of his tongue had Suga sputtering and before he could get out a properly scathing response he was interrupted by Yamaguchi’s pleasant smile and the sentencing words, “Alright, everyone pair up.” 

* * *

It had taken a little thinking, but Daichi was now realizing that the words Asahi had granted him in regards to Sugawara Koushi (just a  _little_ unpredictable, huh?) had definitely been more in the vein of a  _warning_ than anything else.

Sure, he himself had certainly played a part in the tension now reverberating between them. Of course he was partially to blame- but his temper was nothing new and besides, Suga had practically made it impossible for him not to feel _attached_ and then consequently totally and entirely _crushed_ all in the expanse of roughly seven hours. 

_Dangerous_. That was a better word to describe Suga and also the current predicament Daichi found himself in. Stupid was another way of putting it, but that word definitely only applied to the fact that Daichi had _stupidly_ let himself fall for a client.

“What’s the matter, Daichi?” Suga pulled him back to reality as he forcibly clasped their fingers together and pushed Daichi’s other hand to his waist. “Got two left feet?” There was venom in his voice, but there was something a bit nervous lingering in the hazel glow of his eyes.

Oh right. The activity of the day- _dancing_. But at the challenging nature of Suga’s words Daichi allowed his lips to pull up and meet the man now wrapped in his arms with a definite twinkle in his gaze. 

The music picked up and then so did Daichi, spinning their bodies and then crooking his foot out to catch Suga purposefully off-balance. The other man tripped backwards awkwardly, but Daichi was there to catch him, dipping Suga as if it had all been apart of the plan and bringing their noses close and lips nearly brushing together. 

“You were saying?” he murmured through a smirk against the soft skin of Suga’s mouth. 

Suga gasped out, but covered up the fluster with a powerful glare. The fingers wrapping Daichi’s bicep pinched against his skin until they were both standing up straight again, still locked in their forced embrace. 

“Your left foot, his right foot,” Yamaguchi was saying from across the room to one of the other couples. “See, like this.”

Daichi watched from the edge of his vision, spinning Suga lightly to change their vantage points, as Yamaguchi unapologetically latched onto his taller partner (Tsukishima only barely scowling at him) and beginning to glide across the floor in a surprisingly comfortable and proficient rhythm. It was almost captivating to watch the two (surprisingly) compatible men together. 

In fact, it was so distracting that Daichi missed the mischievous spark in Suga’s eye just before his left foot came crashing down atop his dance partner’s toe. 

With an audible hiss Daichi refocussed, almost growling down at Suga but nearly losing all the wind in his sales at the way the man’s smile had grown bright and far more amused than annoyed. 

Biting his lip to keep from grinning too widely at the sight Daichi latched onto Suga’s hand firmly before spinning him out with a flick of his wrist and then reeling him back in quickly until they were toe to toe once more. For a brief second Daichi thought that the look of utter surprise that appeared on Suga’s features was going to melt back into anger, but then suddenly he was giggling, loud and clear and the sound tickled at Daichi’s ears without remorse. 

They swayed and twirled together with the music, watching as Tsukishima actually allowed his partner to lead him with natural ease as Yamaguchi spun about to give direction or praise to the other couples. 

They conspired and whispered against one another’s lips or ears as they glided past Bokuto and Akaashi (the latter of the two endearingly patient with his overzealous partner) and then towards Kuroo and Kenma (the former doing everything in his power to get his fiancé to loosen, kissing against his nose and spinning them gently in place as if there were no one else in the world but them.)

They even shared a pleasantly shocked look at the way Iwaizumi was leading Oikawa in a very practiced box-step, only stopping to snarl up at his partner once after a very proud looking Tooru had most likely whispered something childish or rude in his ear. 

“I-I’ve never seen Oikawa with someone else like that before,” Suga said, hushed against Daichi’s shoulder.

They twirled, but as the music slowed so did Daichi’s steps. He studied Suga for a moment, trying to understand just what emotions were flooding through him at the comment, but then before he could formulate an answer, Suga looked up to meet him with a soft but genuine smile. “They look good together, don’t they?”

There was a flutter that may or may not have stopped Daichi’s heart for the briefest of moments. “Yeah, they do,” he admitted, trying very hard not to remember the way he’d caught the two together in the shadows the night before. 

It was, by any measure, quite apparent that every couple here had chemistry. Butthe way Suga felt in his arms, the laughter that bubbled up (from them both respectively) as they floated across the parquet like it was entirely natural for them was sending shockwaves of starlight and sunshine throughout the room that was palpable to _everyone_ there. 

Suga’s hands were warm, one wrapped in his own and the other holding tight to his upper arm. Daichi’s fingers were cradling the small of Suga’s back and as they slowed even more to rock together, feet moving in time with one another, their foreheads met, gaze becoming even more intimate.

Daichi couldn’t read Suga’s mind and certainly Suga couldn’t read his either. But it was enough of an apology for the both of them. 

* * *

With deft hands Suga fluffed the blanket up until it landed gracefully against the soft, moonlit sand beneath them. With a contended grin he flopped down against the comfortable fabric and pillowy beach and beckoned to the man standing over him with a flick of his outstretched fingers.

Daichi, brown eyes warm even beneath the cover of nighttime, sat to join Suga laying back against the sand so that they were only inches from one another, bodies and gaze perfectly parallel. 

They’d endured a rather boisterous dinner with Kuroo and Kenma and a few of their other guests at a small eatery of (to everyone’s surprise) Tsukishima’s suggestion, but afterwards the two had managed to extricate themselves from the group in order to meander back to the hotel hand-in-hand amidst the warm waves of a setting sun.

Now, as the sun had made its final descent beneath the horizon, the stars were bright, glowing against the backdrop of inky sky and watching over them with a knowing presence that had Suga’s flesh tingling even in the island humidity. There was a calm breeze rolling in off of the ocean, the waves crashing peacefully in time with their breathing, but Daichi’s body next to him was proving to keep him just as comfortable as it had been the last few nights they’d been sharing a bed together. 

“Have you ever done a wedding before?” Suga asked after they’d been laying together in pleasant silence for a few minutes.

“Hm, no.” Daichi managed to tear his eyes away from the sky above to meet Suga’s own. “I’ve been asked, but I’ve never accepted.”

“Why did you -” Suga licked at his lips, unsure if the question brewing on his tongue was possibly too intrusive. His voice lowered to a whisper after a second of thought. “Why did you come here with me then?”

He watched as Daichi looked away, contemplating as the light from above washed his rugged features in a violet luminescence. “I don’t really know why, exactly.” His voice was rich and velvet, his smile bare and etched. “There was just something different about you.”

“Different?” Suga laughed softly, trying not to sound too adverse. “Probably more like desperate.”

“No, that’s not it at all, Suga.” Daichi matched their gaze again, entirely serious. “You aren’t desperate- you’re _determined_.” 

Swallowing, Suga found himself nodding once in understanding. _Determined_. Was that how Daichi really saw him?

“This is nice.” The words were softer and obviously vying for a change in subject. Suga stared as Daichi brought an arm up to point towards the sky. “You can see Gemini really well right now.”

Suga squinted, searching through the myriad of twinkling little stars to spot (if nothing more) the two brightest glowing stars of the Gemini constellation. “Is there anything you’re _not_ good at?” he muttered, biting his cheek to keep from actually giggling. 

Daichi shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against Suga’s with the gesture. “I took an astronomy course at university.” 

Suga turned more then, curling on his side to regard the man curiously. “What university?” he wondered.

“Osaka,” Daichi answered. “What about you?”

“Tokyo,” Suga said in kind, watching Daichi with a dawning light. These were things they’d never even thought to talk about. 

“And you work for Japan Air?” Suga nodded in affirmation. “For how long?”

“I guess almost three years now-” he furrowed his brow. “I can’t believe it’s been that long already.”

“I’ve been at _this_ for three years myself-” Daichi swallowed once around the reality of his profession that Suga had brought up earlier. His eyelids narrowed as he stared down at nothing in particular. “It’s like every year I get older the months go by faster and faster.”

Suga blinked a few times, feeling as though suddenly he was slipping a bit. He brushed away a fleeting sensation that had crawled up his neck. “I know what you mean,” he mumbled out, rolling onto his back once again and staring upwards.

“I miss feeling like the world is infinite. When I was a kid I could spend hours outside just staring up at the sky and thinking about all of the places I would go someday and the people I would meet and the things I would do.” Suga felt his jaw clench against his will. “And now I wake up in the morning and go to work and watch other people jetting off on their own adventures while I’m stuck behind the counter doing nothing at all magnificent with my life.” He sighed, fighting unsuccessfully with a frown. “I’m absolutely un-magnificent, Daichi.”

“Suga.” It was powerful, the way Daichi said his name, and it would never cease to unwind him. Suga found his teeth tugging at his lower lip, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to respond just yet.

“Suga, look at me.” Daichi tried again, bringing confident fingers up to brush against his jaw, but Suga was already turning towards him now. “You are completely magnificent. If you think anything different, then I’m sorry, but you’re wrong.”

Suga felt his breath catch in his throat. Daichi looked at him, looked straight through him, so wholly and unabashedly, and it was even more powerful and rousing than anything they’d experienced together the night before. 

Daichi’s words were barely a whisper when he next spoke. “I think I’d miss you, even if we’d never met.”

This time Suga was entirely certain that he felt his heart pound and jump against the cage in his chest. “Daichi, do you trust me?” he asked, voice tender. 

It took Daichi only a single heartbeat to respond. “Yes.”

Suga’s lips curled up, eyes shining beneath the moonlight as an idea formulated rapidly amidst the electricity in his mind. He reached for Daichi’s hand, clasping their fingers together and giving a gentle tug. “Come on then, I have an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er, so writing a "fight" scene between Suga and Daichi has quickly been marked at the top of my list of Things I Cannot Deal With/Write Well. Huh, who would have thought?
> 
> Also, the Iwaoi is REAL- just go take a peek over [**here**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6644785) to see some more of it (filthy sin included). 
> 
> Thoughts on the chapter? The dancing and blushing and moonlight conversations almost gave me heart failure.


	12. Swimming In The Sea (Have Mercy On Me?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Daichi,” Suga cautioned, stepping backwards as best he could in the now suddenly waist deep water. “Don’t you dare!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [theme music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7OCgi7rANc)   
> 

As with cliff diving, skinny dipping was not exactly something that existed in Daichi’s wheelhouse. Sure, he was adventurous. Certainly he was no stick in the mud. But (he was learning very quickly) that spending more and more time with one Sugawara Koushi was either going to corrupt him entirely or ensure some form of heart failure, whichever came first. 

And the main problem with all of this was not that Suga was shockingly impulsive (considering how timid he’d been upon their initial meeting) or that Daichi might rack up some extensive medical bills. The problem was that Daichi was almost (definitely) certain that he _just didn’t care_. 

The sand beneath his feet forced him to re-balance as he jogged to catch up to Suga, who was suddenly moving faster and more agilely than he, but somehow the pretense of chase just seemed fitting. The white of the beach gleamed under incandescent moonlight, bright and almost uncanny if one stared at it for longer than necessary. Waves crashed with the shifting tides, the sound only echoing louder in his ears as they grew nearer to the water’s edge with each step.

“I thought you were _skinny_ _dipping_?” Daichi had finally caught up to him, admittedly a little out of breath (but not for reasons that some might’ve assumed). Suga already had his toes in the water, the foam running up along and over his feet. He’d left a short trail of garments behind him, farther up the beach closer to Daichi, but he still had on a pair of navy boxer briefs that were practically lost in the darkness of night threatening to swallow them up. 

Suga turned to flash a smile over his shoulder, fingers playing at the elastic still clinging to his hips. There was a challenge in his expression, what little Daichi could see of it, but it was definitely something sly. Those fingers dipped beneath the waistband and before Daichi could really register (or enjoy) the man’s pallid and poised state of undress, Suga’s last bit of clothing smacked him right in the face. 

The giggles that erupted over the ocean’s roar threatened to send him over the edge, but Daichi managed to throw the briefs into the start of a pile followed shortly by his own garments and did not allow himself any time at all to overthink or even simply _react_. 

He waded into the water up to his stomach. Not as warm as he’d anticipated and as naked as he was, Daichi was _acutely_ aware of the temperature. Still, Suga had already made it past the shore break, dipping down for a few seconds before twisting back up to float on his back. 

The water was almost black around them but Suga cut through it, his pale skin a beacon of luminous starlight in the void. 

Daichi continued onward. 

When he got to the edge of the sandy shelf he pushed off, letting the salty water flow across his skin as he swam out, his body starting to adjust to the point that he almost felt warm now. Or maybe that was just because suddenly he was only a foot away from Suga’s naked body. 

Daichi could still stand here, the water just barely lapping at his shoulders, but he took to floating along with Suga even if it quickly became more of a teetering experiment, his body feeling lopsided as the inky sky and water started to blend into one. He let his toes drag along the sandy bottom every few seconds just to keep himself somewhat grounded.

“Do you enjoy it?” Suga whispered against the lulling crashing of waves against the shoreline. “Your- _job_ , I mean?” 

_Not really_ , he wanted to say. Daichi stared up towards the array of stars, trying to pick out another constellation or two. “It’s interesting,” he said instead. “It certainly pays the bills.”

Suga snorted out a laugh and even though Daichi could imagine the flush running along his skin at the sound, he was happy for the small acknowledgment that Suga didn’t really want this to be a serious, earth-shattering conversation as much as his question might have implied. 

Daichi tilted his gaze as much as the water would allow to see Suga’s mouth opening as if to say something, probably another apology, so he spoke first, “I don’t do it for the money though. I mean not really,” he explained.

Suga pulled forward to stand against the sandy bottom, leaving his arms loose to float with the gentle rocking of the water. He was giving Daichi his full attention it seemed, so Daichi continued on. “I like helping people. Sometimes that means allowing them not to feel so insecure, providing them an outlet or someone to talk to. Sometimes it just means being a solid presence in their life, for however long or short a time.” He smiled, righting himself to meet Suga’s gaze in a less horizontal manner. “I do enjoy that aspect of it, I guess.” 

He watched Suga’s throat contract as he swallowed, having to ignore the sudden urge to press his lips to that pale expanse of skin and taste the salt and moisture clinging there. 

“It suits you,” Suga said then, his voice tight. 

Daichi’s vision fell. That hadn’t exactly been what he’d been wanting to hear, but then there were fingers pressing against his own and Suga was pushing his way into his space, the water between them parting with a slick coolness against his abdomen. He looked down into hazel eyes that were wide and genuine. 

“I mean the solid presence.” Suga smiled delicately. “That’s what suits you.” 

Something electric ran up Daichi’s spine and it had absolutely nothing to do with the naked body pressed against his own.

He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss against Suga’s lips. It was salty and sweet and when arms reached up to wrap around his neck and pull him closer, deeper, Daichi realized that he _did care_. He just didn’t know what he _cared about_ until now. 

Legs worked to twine themselves around him, Suga’s body lighter floating in the water as they were. Daichi held him close, tucking his head to run lips against the hollow of the other man’s neck. The flesh was warm and the little hum of contentment Suga released caused his mouth to tingle pleasantly. 

Quick, playful fingers danced along Daichi’s shoulders, down his arms, and across his abdomen until they reached the dual heats that had grown between them and the underwater sensation of touch had him shivering and clenching against his hold on Suga’s smooth thighs.

The smile that Suga pressed into his jawline was contagious, just the feel of it convincing Daichi’s own lips to quirk upwards. 

Suga’s strokes grew in tempo, the pressure and technique relying heavily on the tremors that had begun to run through their firmly joined bodies simultaneously. In fact, everything was simultaneous between them now; their rapid breaths, the fluttering kisses and, in the end, their release. 

After Suga’s hand made it’s way back up to grip at the nape of Daichi’s neck, a tongue dipped into the latter’s mouth and Daichi spun them in the water, the ocean’s coolness flowing against each curve and hollow of their bodies. The movement had Suga laughing against the shell of his ear and Daichi’s priorities quickly and surely falling straight into place. 

* * *

By the light of day the ocean looked just as inviting, the waves curling towards the shore and splashing shades of azure and turquoise against the coarse sand. The sun shone down across bronzed backs, the scent of coconut and suntan oil melding through the air in sharp contrast to moonbeams piercing through the darkness of night and the aroma of driftwood burning in a midnight bonfire.

But it was not just the scenery that took on an alternate look in the daytime hours Suga found himself realizing as he fought to keep his eyes from glazing over as he studied the way Daichi’s muscles curved and shifted with his every movement. Those simple orange swim trunks did little to hide toned thighs and golden skin glowing with an activity-driven sheen as he dove forward to receive the multi-colored ball and send it back towards an eager Hinata. 

“Enjoying the view?”

The voice that crawled past his distracted thoughts was more than familiar, but as Suga turned to face Oikawa he took in an expression of near genuine curiosity rather than the spiteful jealousy that the tone might have implied. Suga felt his brows furrow, yet he was smirking nonetheless, finding it oddly comforting to watch the man he’d once been so wholly committed to stuttering under the idea that he’d been so readily and easily replaced.

Actually, he almost felt guilty about the entire thing. 

“Oikawa, where’s your new beau?” 

It seemed he’d be saved yet again by his friend’s provoking attitude however as Kuroo sauntered to join them, his eyes slanting sharply across Oikawa’s face until they conveniently landed on Suga’s own. Something about his growing smile was definitely conspiring, but Suga was not certain just who he was conspiring with. 

“He had an excursion early this morning,” Oikawa answered all-too-easily, before adding with a fierce scowl, “And he’s not my _beau_!”

“Tomāto, tomäto,” Kuroo brushed him off easily. “You’re having _fun_ and that’s what truly matters.” The way he arched his eyebrows, waggling them a bit for extra effect, had Oikawa’s skin splotching an unflattering red. 

Arms crossing over his chest, Oikawa threw him a pout to try and hide his obvious embarrassment. But Suga did not miss the sidelong glance sent his way a moment later, as though Oikawa was gauging the effect such implications were having on him. Suga wasn’t so sure yet himself though, so he kept his expression neutral.

“You’re mind is so filthy, Tetsu,” Oikawa chastised. “Even on the eve of your upcoming nuptials.” 

A hand flew up to Kuroo’s heart as he feigned a fluster over his friend’s words. “Tooru, you’re _always_ the flatterer.” 

Oikawa’s brows had furrowed deep over his eyes, only perpetuating his pout. “Why do I even hang out with you?” 

A brawny arm was thrown over his shoulder, visibly knocking him forward with its momentum. “Because we’re your best friends!” Bokuto crooned in his ear. 

Suga found himself so entirely amused by the growing grimace marring Oikawa’s perfect features that he barely heard the shout aimed their way, even if the voice was one that had burrowed its way into his heart sometime within the last forty-eight hours, give or take. 

“Heads up!” Daichi yelled out and Suga found his eyes flashing upwards just in time to see a volleyball headed straight towards his face. Reflexes kicking naturally into gear he brought steady fingers up to catch the ball’s momentum in an overhand receive, tossing the ball back towards the direction it had come from in one, easy motion.

It seemed the receive might have startled Daichi a bit as he watched, wide-eyed, as the ball flew back towards him, though a little short. The man was just coming round to snapping himself out of staring in awe at Suga when a blur of limbs and movement slid across the sand between them, the smack of leather against skin so soft it was barely heard over the rushing tide not far behind them. 

“Awesome, Suga-san!” Nishinoya beamed, not bothering to even think of acknowledging the natural skill of his own receive that was now being caught mid-air by a screeching Hinata. 

Suga hadn’t even noticed that another couple had joined their little gaggle on the beach until a large presence to his right had him turning to meet the already apologetic eyes of Asahi.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said before Suga had even a chance to breathe.

Suga felt a tickle on his tongue and smile on his lips. “Asahi, you apologize like it’s going out of style,” he chuckled.

“That’s cute-” suddenly there was another presence invading his personal space, though this time it was one that sent a tingle down his spine. “-coming from _you_.” 

Cheeks burning, Suga turned a little glare on Daichi. Wasn’t he supposed to be charming? Now all of the sudden he was _teasing_ Suga in broad daylight in front of his friends? _Oh no_ , Suga cringed, he didn’t even think it was possible to like this man anymore than he already did! 

The sound of Asahi actually muffling a laugh behind his hand pulled Suga from his thoughts, but before he or Daichi could chastise the taller man for his amusement at their expense, a Noya-spurred-war-cry from across the beach pulled Asahi away, leaving the couple partially secluded from the rest of the group. 

“You look a little warm.” Daichi’s smirk had not faded, but somehow grown even more intrigued perhaps based on the way he was observing Suga’s now pink tinged skin. 

They both were wearing very little clothing, though Suga still harbored a thin white t-shirt over his powder blue trunks because, for a lack of a better way to put it, his pale skin was nearly combustable. But still, his blush could not be easily hidden, and the way he was observing the tanned muscles of Daichi’s chest within extreme touching-distance, said blush definitely wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

Suga forced his eyes up to meet Daichi’s own with a spark of challenge. “Wanna cool down?” He flicked his head towards the beckoning ocean with a wry smile. 

It was unspoken, but suddenly their feet were carrying them as fast as they could across the warm and sinking sand towards the water in a parody of competitive sprint. 

The ocean was warm like bathwater, lapping at their skin just as it had the night before, but this time rays of sunlight lit against their backs and the vibrant color of the water shimmered up around them. They both were breathing hard as they waded in against the foam and swell.

“Beautiful,” Suga heard Daichi say over the din of the water, but when he turned to see just what it was the man was admiring and found a very serious, very pointed brown gaze staring directly at _him_ Suga couldn’t fight down his obvious giggle, overcompensating with an exaggerated eye-roll. 

“Cheesy,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at the offender.

Daichi chuckled in response. “Maybe it’s just my overwhelming charm.” 

Suga’s tongue peeked through his teeth just before an automatic fist slammed into Daichi’s arm. He laughed and skirted away as Daichi went to grab at the assaulting appendage, but he didn’t stop there, advancing on Suga with a wry smile and a mischievous tilt to his brows. 

“ _Daichi_ ,” Suga cautioned, stepping backwards as best he could in the now suddenly waist deep water. “Don’t you _dare_!”

But the warning went unheeded as a quick arm hooked around the back of Suga’s knees pulling him up until Daichi had him in his clutches, bridal-style. However, there was no time for Suga’s hands to grip at Daichi’s steady shoulders as suddenly he was being swallowed up by water as his body was plunged into the ocean. 

When he emerged, wiping beads of moisture from his lashes and flicking dripping locks from his forehead Suga set the brunette with a frightening smile. “Alright Daichi, you won. Now time for your prize.” 

Daichi watched as Suga advanced on him with an increasingly distrustful expression, but even so he stood his ground until Suga was able to slink arms around his neck and pull their bodies close until their noses touched. Just where he wanted him. 

“Ready?” Suga whispered, voice definitely huskier than before. He watched curiously as Daichi swallowed just before their lips met. 

Suga made sure the kiss was sloppy, filled with need and more lust than was appropriate for a mid-day swim with all of their companions not too far up the beach. He caught Daichi’s lower lip between his teeth, tugging until a groan was produced and Suga knew he had him. He soothed the bite with a teasing tongue and then, without warning, curled his foot behind Daichi’s ankle and pulled. 

The motion put the other man severely off-balance, the lilting movement of the ocean not helping, and before anything could be done about it Daichi’s body crashed backwards into the water. 

Suga was halfway back to the beach by the time Daichi came up for air, half-laughing half-spluttering. When he caught up to him, sand sticking to their damp feet and the sun heating the beads of water clinging against their skin, Suga was beaming with amusement and pride. 

He stood, hands on hips, and quirked a brow. “Two can play at that game, Sawamura-san.” 

A roguish smile attacked Daichi’s lips as he leapt forward to catch his arms around Suga’s waist, spinning him and running tickling fingers across his abdomen until Suga couldn’t resist any longer, barely able to breathe over his fit of giggling, and pulled them both down to the beach with a solid thump.

“Okay. Mercy, mercy!” Suga shrieked through his sudden breathlessness until Daichi’s hands retreated from their assault.

The sound of their shared laughter was undoubtably quite loud, echoing out without a care. Suga shaded his eyes and turned to study Daichi’s sharp jaw and the wrinkles ebbing out from where his eyes were clenched shut with the force of his smile. 

He felt a sense of utter bliss wash over him at the sight. This was something so foreign to him, the immense amount of butterflies coursing through his body, that it still shocked him at how powerfully Daichi could effect him this way. It wasn’t as though he’d not felt happiness like this with someone before (certainly he had) but it had just been somehow- _different_. 

“Cute,” came a chirp from above them, a shadow suddenly invading their intimate joy. Suga tilted his head to meet an upside-down version of Oikawa staring down at him. 

The man’s lips were quirked in a way that told Suga he was _trying_ to be genuine- even if the tone came across a bit barbed. 

“Did you need something, Tooru?” Suga asked as diplomatically as possible. He could feel how Daichi had tensed beside him and he wanted desperately for this conversation to be over and done with as fast as possible. 

For what it was worth, Oikawa did not respond in any type of snarky manner. Instead his eyes sunk a bit and his smile became obviously forced. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something- do you have a moment?” 

“Um-” Suga, choking a bit at the lack of words leaving his mouth, brought his gaze to Daichi, searching. But, in turn, Daichi’s eyes were still glued to their unannounced visitor.

“Oikawa!” Someone shouted from several yards off. All three men craned their necks to see Bokuto with hands cupped around his already loud mouth and Kuroo with a slightly suspicious grin pulling at his lips. Behind them sat Kenma, intensely focussed on his handheld, even as Lev hung over his shoulder spitting a slew of questions into his ear.

“We need you and your fashion sense over here for a minute!” Bokuto continued, voice carrying easily towards them and half the beach too. The amusement hidden beneath those words was obvious to everyone except perhaps the person it was directed towards.

Suga and Daichi had, by now, at least had the sense to sit up atop the sand, knees bumping as they did so. Oikawa turned back to them with a somewhat apologetic expression and a tight-lipped simper. “I guess it can’t be helped,” he said breezily before turning on his heel back towards the others. 

“Does he understand sarcasm?” Daichi asked, hushed in Suga’s ear after they’d finished watching the lithe man make his exit.

Suga shrugged one shoulder, meeting the other man’s concern with a smirk. “Mostly I think he just can’t take a hint sometimes.” 

“So I take it your friends are buying everything then?” The way Daichi spoke was slow and careful, like he was unsure if such a question would push them back into argument mode once again.

Suga thought about it for a moment, dragging is fingers through the fine sand beneath them and creating little ridges and random patterns. It was an honest question, an appropriate one even, and so he answered as truthfully as he could. “I suppose we sell it pretty well, don’t we?” he whispered. “We make a good couple, I guess?” 

He looked over to Daichi from underneath thick lashes. The other man’s skin glowed in the direct sunlight, but there was an unmistakable flush crawling up his exposed neck that forced Suga to bite back a grin. 

Daichi swallowed once, hard. “A-are you thirsty?” he asked, suddenly rising and haphazardly brushing sand from his swim trunks with jittery fingers. “I’ll get us something.” 

“Sure,” Suga answered, stifling a laugh, but Daichi had already turned back towards the hotel so Suga afforded himself a tiny chuckle. Yes, _two_ could definitely play at this game, that was for certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fluff, Batman!
> 
> I can't even believe that this fic is actually almost reaching its end. I mean seriously I'm over here already planning/writing the last couple of chapters (and hopefully some kind of epilogue). I guess time flies, as they say!
> 
> Also, THANK YOU again to anyone who reads this story, leaves a kudo, leaves a comment, or recommends to others. You all are so supportive and one of the reasons why I adore this fandom so much!
> 
> P.S. - Sorry if I've been a bit more absent recently. Work, finding a new job, preparing to move to a new state, and planning a wedding are things that have been ruling my world recently. But thanks to you all I still have motivation to write!!


	13. Love, What Is It Good For? (Absolutely...Nothing?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Remember that off-campus apartment we rented during second-year?” There was something hazy clinging over his usually crystal clear eyes, but no one was quick enough to realize or stop him. “Our first place, Suga-chan?”_

This was bad. This was definitely bad. Or rather, Daichi _had it bad_. He had it bad for a client- something that had never happened before and shouldn’t even be happening now. But here he was. Yes, this was definitely _bad_. 

It had been the sex, that was the problem. They’d just skipped right over everything else and had sex and he should have never allowed that to happen. Not that it had been bad! On the contrary, it had been so good that Daichi couldn’t have stopped Suga in their little skinny dipping romp even if he’d have wanted to.

But the thing was, it wasn’t just the sex. It was _everything_. Everything about one Sugawara Koushi had Daichi’s insides crumbling and he couldn’t even remember when exactly that had started, but all of a sudden he wasn’t just an escort here to make Suga’s ex-fiancé stew in regret anymore. 

All of a sudden this was very real. Or, at least, it _felt_ very real. 

Daichi was so caught up in his own racing thoughts that he barely even noticed the two people standing at the poolside bar sharing surprisingly heated words until he nearly ran headlong into both of them. 

“-can’t wait any longer, Suga has a right to know.”

“I haven’t seen him happier in years and you want to ruin that for him _now_?”

Both Kuroo and Oikawa froze turning to face Daichi looking guiltier than if they’d been caught making out in a broom closet somewhere. Daichi stopped, felt his tongue stuttering, and suddenly began to feel very ( _very_ ) out of place. 

“Sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” 

Kuroo’s smirk was tighter than Daichi had ever seen it. “It’s alright, Sawamura,” he said with a forced chuckle. “It’s not eavesdropping if we’re stupid enough to hold a personal conversation in public.” His eyes slid to Oikawa, narrowing as though he were silently shifting the blame to him.

Oikawa, for what it was worth, looked quite flustered by the entire thing. His usual easy and suave air had fizzled into something very awkward and insecure, uncomfortable emotions rolling off of him and hitting Daichi at full force. 

“I was just going anyways.” The smile Oikawa provided him looked almost painful before he moved past Daichi with the quick steps of someone trying desperately to escape the eyes of suspicion.

Daichi was left standing there, trying not to gape at what he may or may not have just stumbled across, not quite able to make eye contact with Kuroo until the other man finally spoke, voice softer with little to no edge in his tone.

“Go on, you can ask,” he said, eyes shifting lower to catch Daichi’s own averted ones.

Daichi’s brows furrowed as he finally managed to meet that unpredictable golden gaze. “Ask what?” he muttered, knowing exactly what Kuroo had meant by it, but not feeling entirely comfortable enough with the proceedings to comply so easily.

Instead of answering his forced confusion, Kuroo instead said, “Sawamura, do you subscribe to the idea that a relationship- even a happy one- can wear on a person?”

_Wear on a person?_ The words echoed back in Daichi’s mind as he turned them over in an attempt to better understand them. He watched Kuroo lean back against the bar, waiting patiently like he had all the time in the world to do so. 

Daichi swallowed, feeling a bit ruffled by Kuroo’s casual attitude in regards to the conversation he assumed they were about to open up into. “This is about Oikawa?” he clarified hesitantly, dipping into the subject with an acute sense of the possible danger here. 

Kuroo’s mouth dipped lower into something rather unnerving. “He’s not as perfect as he’d like the world to think,” he said. “Though, on the other hand, neither is Suga.”

Daichi had to bite his tongue to stop himself from blurting out just the opposite. Of course he realized the blinders were up when it came to Suga (and yes, that was still _very_ stupid of him!) Of course the man could not be perfect (who was he kidding?) But the idea of Suga being the axis on which his broken engagement with Oikawa spun made the muscles in Daichi’s neck feel taught and uncomfortable. 

His next words nearly caught in his throat. “Kuroo-” his voice was soft. “-Oikawa is the one who broke up with Suga, right?” 

For some reason the question seemed to slice into Kuroo, his easy demeanor shattering to leave only a pair of averted eyes beneath a black fringe curled by humidity and a lower lip bitten red between gnawing teeth. 

“Yes and no,” Kuroo said, a lithe hand coming to swipe at an imaginary feeling at the back of his neck. Daichi stared as realization dawned on him even before Kuroo added, “I’m the reason why Oikawa broke it off with Suga.” 

* * *

Kenma’s eyes were hard with thought as he mulled over the question Suga had just posed him with. It hadn’t been a particularly hard question, in fact it hadn’t even been a question warranting much more than a yes or no answer (because Suga knew Kenma was partial to those types of questions in the first place) but still those golden eyes glowed with uncertainty as he finally opened his mouth to reply.

“Being married isn’t really going to change anything between Kuro and I,” Kenma said, slow and so soft that Suga almost missed it above the din of the ocean in the background. 

Maybe using the word _excited_ had thrown Kenma for a loop (as in, “So are you excited to get married tomorrow?”). Suga watched him, fitting him with a pleasant smile. “At least it will be legal here,” he ventured, steering away from the abstract and more toward logic.

Kenma’s head bobbed in agreement, but he didn’t voice it. Instead he just tugged on the sleeves of his gossamer thin zip-up and adjusted the baseball cap that sat atop his head that looked suspiciously like one of Kuroo’s (the red, embroidered denotation of ‘captain’ giving it away pretty severely.) 

Content to allow the conversation to fizzle away into comfortable silence Suga allowed his eyes to wander, coming across first the exuberant forms of Lev and Bokuto not-so-surreptitiously showing off for the two pairs of eyes watching them hammer volleyballs into the soft sand from the court’s makeshift sidelines. His amusement only grew when he spotted the large, capable hands of Asahi smoothing lotion onto his significant other’s back, Nishinoya in turn unable to fight back the breathless laughter as Asahi’s fingers knowingly plucked at his most ticklish ribcage. Even across the sundeck back towards the pool he could make out the silhouette of Kiyoko, her porcelain skin contrasted nicely against the black of her one-piece engaged in a pleasant conversation with a petite blond who’s rosy cheeks were apparent even from such a distance. 

Suga sighed happily, relishing in the sun’s warmth raining down on his skin (even if he could sense the impending sunburn if he didn’t reapply very soon) and the sensation that perhaps the saying rang true- certainly it seemed _love was in the air_ here. 

A hand fell to his shoulder, almost startling him out of his trance, but it seemed Daichi was just the perfect person to share this moment with. 

Suga turned, parted lips expecting his plus-one, but instead found himself faced with the half-naked and near glistening form of Oikawa Tooru. For half-a-second it was mesmerizing. Half-a-second before Suga’s headspace fell back down to reality that is. 

“Suga-chan.” His smile was grand and beaming, but Oikawa’s voice sounded strained and no amount of bravado could hide that from Suga’s well-tuned ears. “May I have a moment alone with you?”

There was a heartbeat where Suga did nothing, did not move, did not breathe. He could say no, he could seek out Kenma for an easy excuse, he could ask his ex the whereabouts of his boyfriend and turn the entire situation on its head. 

He did none of these things.

“Alright.” His own voice came out partially obscured by the sudden tightness in his throat and chest. But then Oikawa’s fingers were squeezing gently against his tense neck, the action forcing Suga’s muscles to melt a fraction and for his mind to click into the realization that just as he was still attuned to Oikawa, Oikawa was still very much attuned to him. 

Oikawa said, “It’ll only be a moment.”

The words were meant to reassure, but as a last ditch effort Suga found his gaze roving frantically in the space from which Oikawa had just appeared only to come up empty. No Daichi in sight. No Kuroo either, for that matter. 

Oikawa nodded once to Kenma out of curtesy, the other party having stayed strictly unengaged during the confrontation thus far (save for a very suspicious narrowing of his eyes), and then without releasing his palm from Suga’s skin steered them away and towards a thick patch of palms several yards off, their branches creating a miniature oasis in the heat of the mid-morning sun. 

As Suga’s mind ran to catch up with them he felt the back of his neck begin to crawl with the intimate touch until he was able to shrug off the fingers and face Oikawa with a neutral expression, the shadows pooling over their flesh.

“Tooru, just tell me what you need to say.” Suga’s jaw felt stiff. “You’re making this much more dramatic than it needs to be.”

Maybe he was being a bit unfair, but it was the truth and the sting on Oikawa’s face proved it too. “I’m not trying to, I promise I’m not-” he backpedaled. “-this time at least.”

“You’re not trying to win me back?” Suga said, side-eyeing the man with as much self-preservation as he could muster. The words stung even his own tongue as they poured impulsively into the humid air between them. “Make me jealous? Make _Daichi_ jealous?”

Oikawa’s hair fluttered as his head shook rapidly, his brows crinkling. “No, no I’m not Suga. Just please listen-”

“ _Does Iwaizumi know that?_ ”

Suga’s mouth snapped shut in order to trap anymore venom that might spill out. There was a silence, thick and uncomfortable that constricted the air around them. Oikawa’s eyes were blown wider than normal, something within their depths forcing Suga’s gut to feel hollow with a sudden onslaught of guilt at his implication. He peeled open his mouth to speak, to take it back, but Oikawa was faster.

“Yes, he does,” the man whispered, features melting into something genuine and naked, something Suga was not so certain he’d ever seen before. Something that made the regret already welling inside of him grow exponentially more painful.

He averted his eyes and Oikawa ventured a step forward, but did not try to regain his gaze. “Look, I’m not going to grovel. I’m not going to beg for your forgiveness, because I know I don’t deserve it.” Oikawa’s tone had grown more confident, more fluid and back to its old self. “But I think you need to know something about why-”

A soft breeze swept through the palms overhead, tangling in the silver-blond strands that lay salty and mussed against Suga’s forehead. The sensation forced his vision up, lingering on Oikawa’s still moving lips until he met the pair of eyes regarding them over Oikawa’s shoulder. 

At first Daichi did nothing to disturb them, standing a few comfortable yards back with the sun’s rays glancing off his tanned skin, short hair still damp and glistening black. He was watching them, careful not to impede. There was at first a simple uncertainty about his expression, gaze not entirely focussed on Suga, but the two as a whole. Then, with a flick their eyes locked and after his mouth curved down in something of a frown the edge kicked back up into a soft smile reserved only for Suga. 

Amidst these few seconds (it could have been minutes, hours for all Suga knew) the words Oikawa was throwing at him had gone unnoticed and unheard. He blinked once, testing to see if Daichi were not just a mirage that his suddenly thirst-ridden mind had projected, before turning back to Oikawa.

With a minor scowl Oikawa regarded him. “Did you hear anything I just said?” he muttered, a signature pout making its way over his mouth. He turned over his shoulder then to catch Daichi as well and the sight forced his shoulders to slump, the sudden look of dejection very unbecoming on his lithe frame. 

“I’m sorry,” Suga said, voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “Can we finish this conversation later?” 

He did not wait for an answer, tried to swallow down the guilt in his mouth for treating Oikawa in such a dismissive manner, but hid any discomfort with a strong and steady gate directly towards Daichi, who’s warmth seemed to radiate out towards Suga’s shadow-cooled skin. 

“Is everything alright?” Daichi’s voice was rich and velvet, so unlike Oikawa’s own that it had Suga shivering. 

“Yes,” he replied, reaching out to link fingers with Daichi’s own, locking them in place. “I just- I think I’ve had too much sun. Would you walk back to the room with me?”

He noticed (even in the split-second that it happened) when Daichi’s gaze blinked over his shoulder to find Oikawa still hovering in the palm tree’s shade. Without a word Daichi tugged at Suga’s hand and turned back towards the hotel. 

Suga looked back only once, but Oikawa’s soft expression and the contrition settling tightly across his shoulders told him he shouldn’t have. 

* * *

They stopped for icy cold water in the hotel lobby, allowing their bodies to adjust to the intensely air-conditioned atmosphere around them before making their way towards the elevators.

Daichi pointedly turned away from the little alcove, now in the light of day illuminated by streaming sunlight and much less vulnerable than when partially obscured by the midnight shadows of nighttime. 

The conversation with Kuroo weighed heavily on his mind. Those words, _I’m the reason_ , feeling stuck in his ears, uncomfortable and itching at his brain. He turned a fraction to stare at the profile of Suga’s face, thick lashes curving out against ivory flesh, so unsuspecting.

But it was not his place, just as it was not his place to inquire on whatever had transpired between Oikawa and Suga just moments before. Nothing was his business here unless Suga chose to make it his business. He was the outsider here- even as he pretended valiantly in the opposite. 

“Daichi, is something wrong?” the voice was hesitant, but firm. Suga wasn’t even looking at him and yet he still somehow knew. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” Daichi felt himself flinch at the strength in his tone, louder than he’d intended. Suga turned to him with those pinpointing hazel eyes. 

Daichi swallowed then stepped forward to close what little distance there was between them. “Just thinking of you.” It wasn’t a lie. In fact it was so much the truth, so believable than even he himself felt the cringe at how cheesy the words were once actually spoken aloud. 

The ding of the elevator’s arrival echoed painfully loud through what little air was left between them.

They moved simultaneously towards the sliding doors, fingers brushing and sparking at their sides and Daichi couldn’t stop the annoying flush he could feel burning up his neck at the contact. When Suga spun to lean against the mirror-like walls of the carriage, his eyes were clear but his lips were quirked down, just a bare hint of what might be going through his mind. The look pulled Daichi in, magnetic.

“What did Oikawa want?” he asked before the words could be swallowed, his curiosity getting the better of him and his inherent nature for overprotectiveness burning through his outward stability. 

Suga tilted his neck the inch it needed to fix Daichi with an easy gaze. “Nothing that couldn’t wait,” he said. It was an answer that Daichi found bristling; he couldn’t read it or Suga at all. 

But then suddenly grabby fingers were assaulting the back of his neck and the edge of his still damp and clinging swim trunks. Daichi stumbled forward a step as Suga pulled him softly. “Are you the jealous one now?” came a low, teasing voice into his ear. 

Daichi slanted his vision to regard Suga’s half-lidded ones. His mouth parted to respond, but then lips brushed the sensitive spot just below his ear, trailing against the ocean-salted skin there and his words were lost in an unprecedented gasp. 

“Having sex in an elevator would be wrong-” Suga whispered, his voice on the edge of flowery amusement. “-on _so_ many levels.”

Groaning (at both the miserable pun _and_ Suga’s lips trailing even farther down his neck now) Daichi grabbed at Suga’s own waist, pinching and eliciting a sharp crow from the teasing man. 

Suga squirmed in his grasp and Daichi pulled back to regard him with a challenging look. When Suga met his gaze he smiled, but there was something hidden beneath its thinness that told Daichi this sudden friskiness was nothing to hold onto. 

Something had shaken Suga, just as something had shaken Daichi himself, but even with Suga so wrapped up in his arms he knew it still was not his place to make the first move. 

* * *

“You’re worrying again.”

Suga turned with a feigned glare at Daichi, brushing fingers down against the annoying little wrinkle in his navy polo. “Just because I want to look good for the rehearsal dinner does not mean I’m worrying.”

But facing Oikawa and the words not yet spoken between them, or Kuroo’s oddly calculating demeanor as of late, or Kenma’s knowing looks- yeah, that was definitely causing him some worry. 

“Okay.” Daichi’s brow arched. “You’re not worrying, you’re fussing.”

Suga huffed as his own brows furrowed deeply, lips parting to continue his side of the argument, but Daichi beat him to it with a comforting smile. “You look great,” he said simply, though it was certainly enough to snap Suga’s mouth shut. 

For a second Suga thought to gush over Daichi’s own state; how _hot_ he looked in that simple button down, thankfully untainted by multicolored hibiscus and garish tikis this time around. 

Instead Suga allowed himself to be pulled forward, fitting hands against Daichi’s firm chest and his lips to linger at the edge of his jaw. “Thank you,” he said, through the soft kiss he placed there. 

When Daichi brought fingers up to his chin to adjust for a better angle, lips fitting together in kind, Suga knew that he understood. 

* * *

As it turned out, the actual wedding rehearsal was not all that complicated. In fact, taking his place up alongside Kuroo and attempting to memorize the tiny tuft of off-colored lime turf beneath his feet, Suga found himself fairly at ease. He enjoyed looking out to the few people scattered across the lawn where tomorrow there would be rows and rows of chiavari chairs and seeing Daichi with Akaashi making pleasant conversation while their dates practiced just the precise steps and timing for the ceremony tomorrow evening. It all felt oddly natural, even the humidity clinging to his neck and the sensation of Oikawa’s body mere inches from his own could do nothing to ruin his current mood.

In the end, it wasn’t until they were all gathered on a private dining patio, sitting around the long, makeshift banquet table, nursing half-empty glasses of wine and pleasantly full stomachs that any real anxiety began to creep up Suga’s spine. But Daichi, in his place next to him with a broad arm draped across the back of his chair, helped to keep him at least somewhat grounded. 

That is until the inevitable, buzz-induced reminiscing started. 

The topics varied from Kuroo and Kenma’s first kiss (both the awkward, unplanned one their freshman year and the ‘real’ one shared the month or so before they’d moved to the islands) to the time Bokuto had to have twelve stitches on the meaty part of his upper thigh (don’t ask) to Noya waking their entire dorm up when he accidentally set off the fire alarm when he not-so nonchalantly made his escape from Asahi’s single the week after they’d started dating to the first time Suga and Kuroo had met and how horrendously that had gone.

And then, amidst a thoughtful and contented silence Oikawa said, “Remember that off-campus apartment we rented during second-year?” There was something hazy clinging over his usually crystal clear eyes, but no one was quick enough to realize or stop him. “Our first place, Suga-chan?” he went on to add. He said this even with his body casually leaning back against Iwaizumi’s shoulder and Suga tried his hardest not to stare at that.

But before he could answer Oikawa’s probably rhetorical question, Kuroo was bursting in with a crow of laughter. “The one where Bokuto broke the kitchen window the first night you moved in?” he asked through a snicker, eyes sliding fast towards Bokuto perched next to Daichi’s other side.

The man’s chest puffed out with an incongruous sort of pride. “Hey,” he exclaimed, ignoring the questioning eyes of Akaashi next to him. “That was just as much your fault as it was mine, bro!” 

“Didn’t your mothers ever teach you not to play ball indoors?” Oikawa spit out, as though he were still bitter about the whole thing, even now however many years later. 

Kuroo squinted across Iwaizumi to meet Oikawa’s haughty gaze. “You’re the one who kept all those volleyballs in the house.”

“Yeah!” Bokuto’s voice rose an octave with this realization. “And besides, what were we supposed to do while you and Suga were-”

Abruptly, with the sound of a motor dying painfully in a blast of smoke and splutter, Bokuto’s voice choked on the words he nearly let slip past his unruly lips. Kuroo gave him a sidelong look, but said nothing to admonish. Oikawa’s face had gone a bit pale and the fingers of his right hand reached to cling against Iwaizumi’s arm like a lifeline (or perhaps to keep the man from getting up and leaving right then and there.) Akaashi and Kenma both averted their eyes, the former hiding his expression behind a polite hand. But the worst of all, was Daichi.

Suga could feel the immediate tension that began to radiate off of him, the arm slung nearly over his shoulders going taught and his jaw clenching, entirely uncomfortable. How had he not expected something like this to happen? With his friends it was only a matter of time. Honestly, he was surprised it had taken even this long. But it was just a slip of the tongue (Bokuto’s loud, impulsive tongue) and anyways, the topic (even without intended malice) probably shouldn’t have even been brought up in the first place, though nothing could really be done about that now.

The nerves he felt initially began to slowly drift into something a bit more confusing, a bit more draining and with a tentative swallow, Suga turned towards Daichi, his own demeanor a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. But Daichi did not turn to face him, simply stared across the table towards Oikawa with a tight little smile. 

“That was a long time ago, of course,” Oikawa interrupted the stifling silence with an oddly careful tone. His eyes scattered to Kuroo in lieu of meeting either Daichi’s or Suga’s. “All water under the bridge now.” 

He hadn’t been referring to the window, that much was clear to everyone at the table.

Suga watched Daichi carefully from the edge of his vision, watched as the tension melted softly into something more reminiscent of embarrassment than anger (which he was not entirely certain wasn’t simply _worse_.) 

Scooting back his chair an inch Daichi stood and politely excused himself from the table. In a sort of curtesy, Bokuto broke out into another story of debauchery starring himself this time (much to Akaashi’s obvious concern) and soon all the pinpointed attention had been diverted away from the messy subject Oikawa had so thoughtlessly brought up. 

Across the table Suga met first Asahi’s pink tinged cheeks, clearly in empathy of his friends’ own fluster, then to Kiyoko, who’s pursed lips and near-neutral expression told him one thing- with a single nod of her head Suga was rising as well, hoping to catch Daichi before he could get too far. 

But, as life would have it, Suga’s plan became almost immediately derailed as he felt a hand grabbing at his arm before he’d barely had a chance to make it from the private patio into the restaurant’s lobby. He turned, feeling acid burning on his tongue for the person he knew he would find there.

“What the hell was that?” he spat, but it was not in the face he was expecting. No, instead he was met with a slightly unimpressed gaze from Kuroo, the man’s fingers relaxing a bit in order to distance himself from a temper he’d only ever had experience with on a few rare occasions. 

Suga instantly blanched, worrying his lower lip between his teeth and saying, “I’m sorry-” his voice sounded a lot less harsh now. In fact it was more reminiscent of a squeak than anything else. “-Kuroo, I’m sorry. But I need to talk to Daichi.”

“And I need to talk to you,” Kuroo replied, not releasing his grip. “I don’t think it should wait any longer.” 

Kuroo needed to talk to him too? Why didn’t everyone just form a cue while they were at it then? 

Suga frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kuroo said, trying to quell Suga’s concern with a light, crooked smile. 

Suga’s frown only deepened though, disbelieving. “Kuroo, what’s going on? Does this have to do with Tooru-”

“I told Oikawa to break it off with you,” Kuroo blurted out, his voice soft but hurried. His gaze widened a fraction as the gravity of the words turned back around and finally hit him, but still he did not let go of Suga. “The engagement,” he clarified. “I told Oikawa to break off your engagement.” 

Never before had Suga ever understood the expression ‘hit by a freight train’ better in his life until this very moment. It was almost as though time had stopped, the palms outside froze in the breeze, the waves halted in their crashing against the shore. Kuroo stared at him, unblinking, waiting for some kind of response that Suga could not at all provide him. He felt as though all the air had been forcibly crushed out of his lungs, that all of his days spent from his breakup up until this very moment had been somehow diminished to nothing. Wrong and entirely skewed. Simply _pointless_.

When he brushed past Kuroo, the man said nothing, did not try to stop him, only followed silently a step behind him. He emerged back onto the patio, barely registering the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter as they rang foggy into his mind as though he’d been suddenly plunged underwater. His eyes scanned the table without registering any of the faces there. He could not even feel the moment when Kuroo placed a steadying hand against his shoulder, save for the tiny downward pull of weight. 

“Oh my god, Kuroo told you, didn’t he?” That voice was familiar as it echoed into his ears and Suga blinked, tried to force himself to focus until he found Bokuto’s face only inches from his own. His expression was surprisingly soft, a bit guilty, but mostly just wholly and entirely apologetic. 

Suga opened his mouth to speak, to ask if every single damn person at this wedding knew but him. But then his throat started to constrict and he could feel the heat forming on his cheeks and the painful pricks of emotion just behind his eyes.

How mortifyingly embarrassing. How horrendously stupid had he been? How had his friends known about this, had a hand in this, and not have told him until just now? This just couldn’t be happening...

Suga’s hands began to tingle, his shoulders began to ache and all he wanted in that moment was a strong, steady body to lean against, to hold him close and tight and take him away from all of this. 

“Koushi?” came a deep voice from behind, worry laced heavily in the tone. At first Suga didn’t even register the use of his first name, so out-of-place but yet somehow so comforting that he thought perhaps he’d simply just imagined it. 

But then firm arms were grasping him, spinning him around until he found himself burrowing his face in that warm, familiar chest, unashamed. Daichi smoothed his broad hands down Suga’s back, gently caressing each vertebrae and creating soothing patters there on instinct. Suga felt a kiss pressed against the top of his head, his ears burning as he imagined the eyes still trained on them, but he couldn’t bring himself to release his grasp to shoo them away.

“Suga, it all worked out didn’t it?” came Oikawa’s voice, soft and tentative, somewhere behind him. “Does any of that really matter now?” Suga’s body shook and it took only a moment for him to realize it as nothing other than anger. He turned with a red-eyed glare, peaking out from Daichi’s hold to find Oikawa staring open mouthed at them, but he didn’t get the chance to make his argument heard.

Oikawa was scowling now, but it was not directed at Suga himself, but at the man still running fingers across his shoulder blades. “I can’t believe you told him!” Oikawa hissed out and Suga felt with his entire body the second those words registered with Daichi.

The misunderstanding was clear on all accounts as a hiss could be heard escaping Kuroo’s mouth and Bokuto took a cautious step back from their embrace. Suga forced himself to look up, the movement painful, until he was able to confirm it for himself. 

Daichi stared down at him, eyes round and guilt marring his handsome features unforgivingly. “Suga-” he started.

But Suga was already pulling away from his arms, feeling his entire body shaking and quivering as he took the necessary steps back towards the patio’s entrance. He wasn’t entirely certain where he was going, but this time he didn’t look back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so for some reason getting this chapter out was like pulling teeth. So sorry, it took a little longer than usual! Also, I'm moving in seventeen days...so if I don't get the next chapter out before then, I apologize if it takes an extra week or so. 
> 
> Anyways, umm sorry about this chapter? The angst hit me really hard at the end there...but fear not, a happy ending is in sight (somewhere). And probably some much needed clarifications (for you all and our fateful heroes). 
> 
> Again, thank you everyone for your support and love! You're amazing.
> 
> EDIT: Do yourselves a favor and love on @trashcatcloset for their amazing [fanart](http://trashcatcloset.tumblr.com/post/145242640526/i-know-you-all-came-here-for-sunshine-and) for this chapter! Be warned though, the angst is strong with this one.


	14. Half-Baked Plans & Comfort In Unexpected Places (With Yellow Roses On Top)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Yeah, you know what happens when you assume, Suga-san."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the unforeseen amount of angst still rearing its ugly head here...

Daichi could not begin to understand how he’d let something like this happen.

It was clear that Suga felt betrayed- the idea of it all twisting the knife already securely lodged just to the upper lefthand side of Daichi’s ribcage. The knife he’d undoubtably placed there himself amidst the muddled emotions whirling around in his mind the past few days and the reasonable logic he could feel knocking, forgotten somewhere at the back of his skull. _This is not real,_ it pleaded with him, _this is not your fault._

And it wasn’t his fault, but Suga had certainly still had a right to know. Suga should never have been so blindly led into an increasingly vulnerable trap unknowingly set by his closest friends and the man he’d hired to keep him safe from all of that. _Hired_ \- the word was correct in all aspects, but Daichi kept it an arms length away, trying to banish the thought as quickly as it had materialized. 

_It was not his fault_. But, then whose was it?

He had to do something. The guilt pooling in his gut, ice churning and gnawing at his insides, was forcing him to move forward and after Suga’s retreating form with nothing other than the words of explanation and apology burning on his tongue.

He understood Suga well enough now that he knew this wouldn’t be easy. The man wouldn’t take his sympathy with open arms, but rather try to hide his pain behind a twisted smile or a once open door slammed closed. Daichi didn’t blame him- he wouldn’t want anyone’s sympathy either, but there was so little left for him to do other than hope Suga would at least just _listen_. 

But something was holding him back. A hand, a strong hand gripping around his bicep and pulling him to a stop. A hand he had half a mind to reach out and snap in two or three different places. 

“Where are you going?” Kuroo muttered out, looking much more defeated as Daichi spun to fit the man with his best scowl through the suffocating feeling building in his throat.

Daichi opened his mouth to respond, to force the man to accompany him and right this entire situation before it got anymore out of hand. Instead, he found himself entirely unable to speak, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

Kuroo’s eyes were soft, partially hidden beneath that annoying black fringe as though purposefully hiding away from Daichi’s undoubtably strong and chastising gaze. “He won’t listen now. You may love Suga, but I’ve known him longer. You’ve got to give him space.”

The word _love_ hit Daichi like a dagger through the heart. He felt his muscles twitch and his composure crumble and for a shattering moment he thought he might break down right then and there, in front of these people that were barely more than actual strangers to him. 

But then a low hiss came from somewhere behind them, somewhere amidst those quietly staring faces still awkwardly gathered around the celebratory table. “Idiots,” the voice said, quite unforgiving in its assessment. 

Daichi turned slowly to take in the intense, golden-eyed gaze now pinning both a stumbling Kuroo and an equally emotional looking Oikawa in place, Daichi fitting somewhere in between the two. Bokuto had somehow made his way back to Akaashi, leaning against the man’s chair in seek of some sort of comfort, though he hadn’t exactly escaped a narrowed glare of his own from said significant other. 

“You’re idiots,” Kenma said again, a little more blandly this time, but still fitting them with a powerful stare.

Kuroo was the first to respond, his voice sounding a bit off-key. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It just slipped out.”

“I tried to tell him days ago!” Oikawa blurted, his own words sounding on the verge of tears. His eyes flicked then to seek out Iwaizumi, but the man was not entirely able to meet his gaze. 

“Kuroo-san,” came the squeak of a voice at the far end of the banquet table. Daichi allowed his vision to stray until he was met with wide eyes and a quavering frown. Kuroo’s grip on his arm tightened. “You and Oikawa-san-” Hinata stumbled a bit over the name. “-you- you didn’t-”

With a surprising kind of ambition, Kenma was the one to flesh out that thought, “Koushi thinks you were cheating,” he said, low but overcoming Hinata’s blubbering (the red head nodding along in immediate confirmation).

A spread of painful chill fell over Daichi’s body at that realization. How could they have all been so stupid...

Kuroo barked out a painful imitation of a laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Oikawa and I have never- _would_ never-”

“ _Us?_ ” Oikawa scoffed in his own right, flicking a hand between he and Kuroo with just as much disdain. “Never in a million-” 

“You just told Koushi that you convinced Oikawa to break up with him,” Kenma explained, his eyes cutting into his fiancé with expert precision, voice edging on annoyance. “What other conclusion do you think he would come to?” 

Something bubbled up from the back of Oikawa’s throat and he slapped long fingers over his mouth. “But that’s not what happened.”

“ _We_ know that,” Kuroo said, adding up the pieces as Kenma studied him. “Hell, everyone here probably knows that. But-”

Daichi’s voice sounded foreign to his own ears when he finally spoke up, barely able to get the words out in one breath. “Suga,” he muttered through numbed lips. “Suga doesn’t know any of it.” 

* * *

In the grand scheme of things his hotel room was probably not the most private and peaceful place to come back to. This was partially due to the fact that one of the people he could not bring himself to face currently held the other matching key. It was also partially due to the fact that mixed alongside his own belongings sat many physical reminders of that very same person. Why did it all have to come back around to  _him?_

Suga sighed, the sound getting lodged painfully in his throat, and shut the door behind him so that his body could fall against it with a weak thud. 

The curtains framing the glass doors across from his slumped position had been left askew and Suga could see the sun dipping down and spreading warm orange and pink rays across the beach below. The light filtered into the room as well, illuminating that monstrously impeding king size bed and the pair of forgotten, salt-water dampened orange swim trunks slung across an arm of the love-seat he was half tempted to fall face-forward onto. 

His hands still trembled a bit as he pushed off the wood behind him, forcing his legs to carry him towards first the bed and then, with an abrupt and last-minute change of course, towards the patch of carpet warmed over by the setting sun just at the bed’s foot. He plopped down, leaning back against the bed but not touching it in any other capacity as that. 

Faces flashed across his vision and Suga felt his stomach clench and for a moment he thought he might actually be sick. But the impending need to feel those arms wrapped around him again was palpable enough to stave anything else off. Dammit, why had Daichi _known?_ Who had told him? How long had he been privy to such volatile information? And why hadn’t he told Suga? 

For a brief and humiliating second Suga almost forgot that Daichi was, in fact, _not_ his boyfriend. Which, in turn, really meant the man had no loyalties to him and no reason to inform him of- 

Suga’s fingers curled into fists against his thighs. _But he did!_ If Daichi truly cared for Suga like he’d since implied then would he not have felt some type of murderous intent towards his senseless friends? Towards his disorienting and frustrating ex? Towards the entire, disastrous, unfathomable situation? 

With a choking sound Suga sobbed out a laugh. The emotionally charged voices in his head were beginning to sound a bit discombobulated. Things just weren’t adding up here. Oikawa and Kuroo- it couldn’t be, there was just _no way._ It seemed, after all the years he’d known them, that those two would have killed each other way before they’d ever even have gotten a chance to-

And _besides that_ , Kuroo had always been so hopelessly devoted to Kenma- well before they’d even started actually dating somewhere between Kuroo’s promotion and the overseas move (even if they’d been going through the motions unconsciously for years.) He’d never known Kuroo _without_ Kenma. 

And even if someone from the outside looking in might have believed it from Oikawa, Suga knew better. Knew how crippling the man’s insecurities could be. Knew that as cunning and promiscuous as he might have portrayed himself to the world, he was really just a big, hopeless romantic when it really came down to it. _That_ had been why Suga had originally fell for him. Of course that fabricated personality had oftentimes overshadowed any of Oikawa’s naked honesty, drawn down like a shade over his true self. And _that_ had been why Suga had originally started to fall _out of it_ for the man.

But if he sat here and thought, _really_ thought hard about the plausibility of the whole thing it began to feel incredibly thin. Had either of them actually said anything definitive to the idea? Or had he simply jumped to the conclusion without a second thought?

So then what reasoning would Kuroo even have for breaking them up? All Suga could figure was that it had better be a _damn good one._

Suga sighed again, roughly threading fingers through his hair and resting his forehead against his palms. He needed to talk to someone, _anyone_ (but preferably someone he’d not just made an emotional wreck out of himself in front of).

With an impulsive start he pulled out his phone and rapidly began scrolling through his contacts until he hit the first person he could think of that might see things through the level-headed perspective he was currently lacking.

He brought the phone up to his ear. It rang and rang. Rang, rang, rang-

“Suga?” The voice was very groggy, but tinged with a bit of concern. Suga mentally slapped himself for not remembering the very extreme time difference. But- wait a minute, if it was going on eight o’clock here then it would only be mid-afternoon in Tokyo-

“Suga, are you okay?” Ennoshita asked again, sounding much more awake and much more worried now. 

Suga spluttered for a second, sifting through all of his racing thoughts until he found the reason for his call in the first place. “Do you think it’s possible that Oikawa was cheating on me?”

“Err-” there came a rustling of sheets and another voice muffled and grumbling on the other end and Suga was having to force himself to _focus_ here- “-did something happen?”

“Something happened,” Suga muttered. “I’m not really sure what exactly.” There it was again, another muffled groan on the other end, this time oddly familiar. Suga’s eyes widened a fraction. “Chikara, are you-”

“Hey Suga-san,” a sleep-garbled voice seeped past Ennoshita’s soft (perhaps embarrassed) start of an explanation. “You havin’ lots of _fun_ with that date of yours?” 

The way one Tanaka Ryuunosuke said the word _fun_ , a drawl that could only be imagined as accompanied by a suggestive waggle of eyebrows, made Suga’s stomach churn with both embarrassment and the memory of Daichi’s pained expression just before he’d pulled away from that strong, comforting embrace. 

“Yeah,” Suga’s voice quavered in its whisper. “Lot’s of fun.” He paused, thinking for a second before his mouth suddenly dropped open. “Wait, Tanaka!? What are you doing-” 

“Suga, can we maybe talk about that later?” Ennoshita chimed back in, his voice light but Suga could practically hear the pinkness invading his cheeks at this unprecedented discovery (mid-afternoon and everything!) “What happened with Oikawa?” 

Suga gnashed teeth into the edge of his tongue to keep himself from letting loose the amount of _very pressing_ questions his mind was brewing up at the moment. Instead (out of respect for his friend’s privacy and his genuine need to get that second opinion) Suga said, “Kuroo just informed me that he told Oikawa to break off our engagement.” 

“Kuroo- your old roommate, right?” Ennoshita wondered thoughtfully.

Suga’s brows knit. “Yes,” he answered hesitantly.

“Did he tell you they’d been- er- _together?_ ”

“Well, no. Not in those certain terms,” Suga said. “His exact words were ‘I told Oikawa to break it off with you.’”

“Did you ask them?” Tanaka interjected and Suga felt his chest constricting. He had been hoping for a more productive conversation here. Maybe even some sympathy. Not an interrogation.

His frown was beginning to feel hollow. “I didn’t ask. Why would I ask something like that?” he spat out.

Suga could hear a rustling and he imagined Tanaka’s shoulders shrugging, but Ennoshita’s voice was back again, this time sounding a bit more cautious. “Wouldn’t he have just said right then that he and Oikawa had been sleeping together? Instead of phrasing it in such a way?” he wondered, tone even and calm. “I’ve only met him the one time, but he seemed like a pretty blunt kind of person to me.”

Tanaka snorted. “Are you talking about that one party where he asked if you were bi?” 

“ _Ryuu, shut up-_ ”

“Wait, I remember that.” Despite everything Suga could feel his lips quirking at the odd memory. “Kuroo always claims he has a sixth sense about those things.” 

_Huh. Turns out Kuroo was actually right this time._

Suga could feel Ennoshita’s blush through the phone without even having made the comment aloud. There was a slight pause, a clearing of a throat, and then, “I just don’t think you should jump to conclusions. You know how you can overthink things,” Ennoshita explained, his voice dipping lower with the sage yet curt words.

“Yeah, you know what happens when you _assume_ , Suga-san,” Tanaka threw in, clearly clamoring for the phone if the ruffling of sheets and a few wayward grumbles on the other end gave any indication. “It makes an _ass_ out of _‘u’_ and _me_!” 

Suga let out a loud groan, feeling his body slipping down until he was sprawled across the floor on his back. As bizarre as this chat was turning out to become he was suddenly feeling like a rational part of his mind was finally coming back towards the light of reality, not masked anymore by the initial pain of a confession gone wrong. It was going to be impossible to live it down, but Tanaka may be right. Ennoshita too. 

Perhaps he had acted too rashly. “I think you’re right,” he said, not having really meant to voice it aloud and almost forgetting who exactly it was he was talking to here.

“Right?” came the echo of Tanaka’s voice. There was a loud thump and then suddenly he sounded much farther away (as if the phone had been abandoned amidst some type of mid-conversation personal standing ovation.) “Of course I’m right!!” came the thundering (but still not as loud as it would have been) reply.

Suga choked on a laugh and rolled onto his side, feeling his jaw spread against the soft carpet as his grin pulled wider, warring with the earlier sensation of tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. “Still there, Chikara?” he wondered.

There came another thump and some squeaking of mattress springs. “I hope we actually helped,” Ennoshita said, sounding suddenly preoccupied and maybe a bit amused.

Suga smiled again, for no one in particular. “You did,” he answered and then before he could stop himself tacked on, “Good luck.”

There came a soft chuckle of a sigh. “Thanks. Good luck to you too, Suga.” 

* * *

“So are we gonna draw straws or something?” Bokuto’s eyes were wide and glowing beneath the sun’s setting light, entirely innocent and genuine in his concern. “How’s this gonna work?”

Amidst a scoff from Oikawa and a pained sounding chuckle from Kuroo, Akaashi placed a calm hand against the man’s shoulder. “I don’t think that would really be appropriate here, Koutarou.” 

“Daichi should be the one to talk to him,” Kenma said, blunt and not looking up from the cellular phone he now had clasped between his fingers in front of him. 

A flush of unexpected color lit under Daichi’s skin as the several sets of eyes left remaining on the patio had now directed their attention solely to him. “Me?” he wondered a bit pathetically, trying to hide his intense willingness towards the task at hand through uncertainty.

It was obvious Kenma wasn’t buying it however, as a golden gaze flicked up to meet Daichi’s, unimpressed. “It shouldn’t be either of these two,” he pointed out, rather unapologetically. This earned him a garbled sounding whine from both aforementioned parties, but he ignored them entirely. It also earned him a rather affirmative nod of agreement from Akaashi, albeit out of his boyfriend’s line of sight. 

“He’s right. Sugawara would probably rather listen to you.” Iwaizumi leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and inserting himself into the conversation with a stiff frown. “If, for example, Oikawa tried to explain he’d most likely end up making it worse. And maybe even get a punch in the nose for all the trouble he’s already caused. Though that wouldn’t necessarily be the worst possible case scenario.”

Beside him Oikawa blanched. “Iwa-chan, mean!” He swiped at Iwaizumi who dodged the half-hearted attempt easily. “That’s not helping.” 

“Actually I agree with Iwaizumi-” Kuroo interrupted, chewing at his lower lip until he saw the pointed look given by his fiancé and was quick amend. “- _and_ Kenma. Knowing Suga he’ll probably ignore us until tomorrow and then show up at the wedding pretending everything’s fine.” His head shook back and forth as his vision shifted to Daichi. “Besides _you’re_ the boyfriend, Sawamura.”

Daichi fumbled a bit, frowning. “Yes, but I’m not exactly innocent myself-”

Kuroo waved him off. “Eh, I’m sure he’s already forgiven you,” he grumbled, as though the truth of it was a bit disgusting. “You couldn’t be more perfect if Suga had-” he paused, clicking his tongue until he found the right words. “-if he’d hand picked you right out of some catalogue.” 

A wave of insecurity fell across Daichi’s shoulders. Now would definitely _not_ be a good time to accidentally confess. In fact, he figured that if Suga already wanted absolutely nothing to do with him after this little stunt, if Daichi spilled the beans without his consent then he would certainly have a death warrant hanging over his head. 

“But if things don’t work out-” Kuroo added, his mouth twitching into a grave looking smirk that had Daichi’s stomach dropping. “-then I’ll find you a different room for tonight, Sawamura.” 

* * *

As it turned out, talking to Suga was going to involve much more than simply setting him straight about the little misunderstanding that both Kuroo and Oikawa had been inciting over the last few days. Or at least, that’s what Daichi had concluded after their strategic pseudo-meeting-of-minds.

“It’s got to be grand or else he won’t accept it,” Bokuto had said, waving his arms about and conferring with Kuroo in hushed tones over the banquet table turned drawing board.

“Accept it?” Daichi had asked, swiping at the gnawing feeling he had that this was perhaps not going to be a good or easy idea to execute.

“The apology of course,” Oikawa had informed him, nodding along as though that surely was common knowledge.

“Of course,” Daichi had said with a tiny, unsure nod, turning his vision to catch the way Kenma kept Kuroo in his sights from the edge of his vision. “I just wonder if Suga isn’t more of a- er- _subtle_ gesture kind of person.”

This had been met with several unimpressed looks from the three scheming masterminds and a practiced sigh from a rather quiet Akaashi seated next to him in some sort of mutual support. “I wonder if they aren’t overcompensating here,” he’d said, with only a hint of malignity behind his words.

Now however, as Daichi rode silently up in a lonely elevator carriage, he decided that _yes_ , they were overcompensating. Most likely the guilt and need for Suga’s romantic life to be as perfect as he portrayed it to be weighing heavily on their decision to push Daichi (along with a dozen or so yellow roses because they quote ‘symbolize friendship and innocence’ and if that didn’t do the trick than Bokuto was, quite frankly, out of tricks) to the forefront of their apology turned Long Overdue Confrontation Of The Truth. 

And it was sweet, really, how much they all cared for Suga. It actually made Daichi feel a little inferior, seeing as how he was the least close to the man they all assumed he was head-over-heels for (‘assume,’ of course, being a strong and probably quite accurate word at this point). 

But still, he was not entirely certain that some flowers and a hopeful smile was going to be enough to win back Suga’s heart and, more importantly, his trust.

“If this is all _your_ doing,” he’d asked Kuroo with a narrowed expression. “Then why am _I_ the one having to do all of the explaining?”

“You’re telling me that you don’t want to be the bearer of _good news?_ ” Kuroo had eyed him, as though suspicious of this apparently unheard-of behavior. “You know, make-up sex is the best kind of sex.” 

Oikawa’s smile had lilted from something guilt-ridden to playful. “How would you know that, Tetsu, when you’ve never even had make-up sex before?” Iwaizumi had actually snorted and Oikawa’s eyes lit up with the minor solidarity. 

“That’s not even an insult,” Kuroo had shot back, arms crossing over his chest. “More like a compliment. It implies that Kenma and I have never had a quarrel to make-up for.”

There had come a hum that sounded strangely like a laugh from Kenma at that and his gaze had clicked up onto Kuroo’s, a bit affectionately. “Kuroo is just being cowardly,” he’d said, matter-of-factly, ignoring his fiancé's indignant whine. “And he doesn’t want to hurt Suga further.”

After that Daichi had fairly well given up trying to reason further with anyone’s logic. It seemed that if he was going to be the bearer of good news, then he should at least do it right. 

The roses had been Bokuto’s idea (retrieved from the very floral arrangements the Kahala had put together for the next day’s festivities). Then there was the partially memorized monologue, pieced together by Kuroo and Kenma, sounding foreign and much too poetic on Daichi’s tongue. 

Oikawa had helped to fix his hair which had been odd in and of itself. Though, the man had been practically sitting in Iwaizumi’s lap all evening, so Daichi supposed the ill-will towards him that they’d danced around earlier in the week had been just as much a facade as anything else Oikawa attempted to use in place of his true, friendlier, slightly amusing nature. 

He was still wearing his dress slacks and shirt and he wondered vaguely if Suga would have changed into his pajamas by now (the endearingly cute ones with the little shrimps that had at first made Daichi’s crush even more unbearable). He didn’t figure Suga would mind though (if Daichi could get past that inevitable look of heart-stabbing betrayal and into the room that is) because he’d noticed earlier the way Suga’s eyes had lingered a bit too long against his backside when they’d walked down to the rehearsal ceremony, still happy and together.

Of course, he shouldn’t be expecting anything at all from Suga, least of all ogling and certainly not make-up sex. The man had been through enough as it was, he didn’t deserve anymore conflicting emotions coursing between them. 

When the elevator doors slid open Daichi stepped forward, breathing deeply to calm his nerves. Screw all of this grand gesture nonsense. All he wanted right now was to see Suga- to see Suga and to wrap his arms around him and tell him in the most straight-forward way possible about _everything_. 

It was time to make things clear. Not only for Suga, but for himself as well. 

* * *

Suga was staring blankly, contemplating the ice-machine, when the elevator chimed down the hallway.

He jumped, startled and without really thinking charged into the nearest alcove which happened to be the floor’s stairwell. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed to be seen in his pajamas (a grown man could wear whatever the hell he wanted to bed, he was proud of his shrimps and sashimi) but Suga had been so on edge since escaping all of those knowing eyes that his body just acted on impulse. 

His head shook, a small amount of chastisement there but really it didn’t matter. It would perhaps end up being a funny story to tell if he ever figured his way out of the mess he’d been so helplessly buried under this past week. 

Suga could hear footsteps against the soft carpet, passing several doors and coming to stand about midway between his shallow, silent breathing and the elevators themselves. His breath caught in his throat, and even as his mind screamed its disapproval, his body leaned forward until he could grip the edge of the wall and peer around it to spy on the mysterious elevator rider. 

His vision was only a sliver, but he could recognize that frame a mile away. Daichi stood there, gripping a somewhat unkempt looking bouquet and flexing his other hand around the doorknob like he were contemplating actually opening it or not. Suga didn’t dare breathe as he watched, rooted to his spot, stomach freezing over. 

There was something that bit at the edge of his consciousness, the undying need to run forward, tripping over himself to reach out and throw his arms around Daichi and never, ever let go again. But he didn’t act on this, instead letting the fear and mortification he could still remember so painfully keep his body stiff and frozen and unbearably cold. 

A door clicking closed ( _their_ door clicking closed) brought his mind back to reality, his lungs huffing out the stale air they’d been holding in and his heart to start thrashing against his ribcage. 

Without thinking Suga turned and dashed down two flights of stairs, searching for that recent message on his phone (the one of proffered but not pushed comfort) until he could count his way down the hall to find himself in front of room 604. 

He knocked once, softly. Then again a bit louder. 

When Kiyoko opened the door, he thought for the briefest of seconds that he might break down again, but he held it in, fingernails biting into his palms to force himself from spilling over the edge.

“Koushi?”  


The name hurt more than he imagined it would. Kiyoko’s voice was soft and kind as ever, but it wasn’t the same as that velvet tone he’d become so accustomed to somewhere between here and Tokyo.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asked, his throat quivering a bit more than he would have liked. _Coward_ , his mind screamed, _such a coward! Just ask him!_

Kiyoko’s smile was a little sad, but she tried not to show it for his sake. “Of course, Koushi,” she said, stepping aside to welcome him in. 

As the door closed behind him, Suga felt the weight of his stress begin to lift. All he needed was a good night’s sleep. Then in the morning he would be ready to confront all those warring questions he had boiling at the back of his mind. He’d be ready to heed Ennoshita and Tanaka’s very practical advice. He’d be ready to face Daichi again. 

Or at least that’s what he was going to keep telling himself. 

* * *

Meanwhile, two floors above Daichi waited. But Suga never came back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have too many thoughts about this chapter...
> 
> 1). I am so sorry for the angst and confusion (this chapter was initially supposed to be a little bit lighter) and I am not entirely satisfied with how it turned out, but this is the final product after much teeth-pulling and editing...  
> 2). _EnnoTana_  
>  3). Why is it that Kuroo and Oikawa are coming off as jerks? They're not this way, I promise! They mean so well, they just execute so poorly!  
> 4). Irritated, salty, all-knowing Kenma makes me nervous to write for some reason.  
> 5). I swear on all that is holy the next chapter will have smiles and kisses and happy things. (Though this time the update will be post-move, so bear with me.)  
> 6). Do yourself a favor and follow [@trashcatcloset](http://trashcatcloset.tumblr.com/). Amazing fanart for this fic, but in general amazing Daisuga that will simply brighten your day.
> 
> EDIT: Also [THIS](http://trashcatcloset.tumblr.com/post/145775872581/meanwhile-two-floors-above-daichi-waited) (be warned, thar be angst)


	15. This Is The First Day Of My Life (I Was Blind Before I Met You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Hey, that reminds me- is Sawamura yours?”_
> 
> _“My what?”_
> 
> _“Your soulmate?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [theme music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztGPYPArAyE) (because it wouldn't be a wedding without a first dance)

The muscles in Suga’s body were aching furiously and there was a strange ringing sounding in his ears.

No wait, that was his cell phone.

With much difficulty Suga peeled his eyes open, taking in the sideways view of a somewhat familiar hotel room, though this one did not harbor a king sized bed.

In the queen size across from him was a soft form bundled beneath milky covers, Kiyoko’s black hair illuminated sharply against the white surrounding her. There was a soft rise and fall of her chest; she was still asleep.

For a few seconds his phone (which Suga now realized was sitting precariously on the edge of the shared nightstand a few inches next to his head) lay quiet, but then quite obnoxiously it began to buzz and hum a soft, ordinary tune and Suga’s fingers flung out just in time to catch it midway through its daring fall to the floor.

His eyes looked down at the device, glazed. The screen was flashing Kuroo Tetsurou’s name accompanied by an obnoxious picture of he and Bokuto miming as if they were trapped beneath the glass. His mind was blank and his mouth felt cotton-dry when he answered. “Hello?”

“Suga, oh thank god-” It took only those four words and the nervous timbre of Kuroo’s voice for Suga to register the horror he should be feeling at answering this particular phone call. His previously sleep addled mind finally clicked into alertness, but Kuroo was already off and rambling. “I’m _so_ sorry for everything. We should have been totally straight with you from the beginning, but then I was moving and renewing passports and dealing with my own soulmate business. Hey, that reminds me- is Sawamura yours?”

Suga blinked down at the patterned carpet staring up at him. His mind still felt a little foggy and he was really regretting answering before becoming fully coherent. “My what?” he mumbled halfway against his pillow.

“Your soulmate?” Kuroo seemed just as confused as Suga was that this seemed to be new information to him. “I know, I know, I used to think Oikawa was an idiot when he waxed poetic about stuff like that, but then everything with Kenma happened and-”

“Kuroo-” Suga squinted and tried to keep his voice as soft as possible. “-what the _hell_ are you talking about?”

“Sawamura explained everything to you, right?”

Suga nearly lost his grip on the phone with how quickly his fingers started to shake.

Well, this could go one of two ways. Suga could hang up right then and there, show up at the wedding and then conveniently slip away halfway through the reception, and be on an airplane back to Tokyo the following morning (preferably having switched seats with some unsuspecting passenger in coach). _Or_ he could ask the dreaded question that was now welling up on his tongue.

Suga _had_ always thought himself to be a tiny bit of a masochist at times.

“What do you mean?” he felt himself blurt out, leaning up on an elbow and trying to stave off the (too-early-in-the-morning-for-this) panic beginning to scratch against the inside of his chest. “I haven’t spoken to Daichi since dinner last night.”

He bit against his tongue when the image of Daichi standing outside their hotel room door holding that wimpy bouquet of roses flashed across his mind. Dammit, he could feel the guilt and regret steadily building already. He should have listened to Ennoshita. He should have listened to _Tanaka_ for heaven’s sake. But, perhaps most of all, he should have listened to _himself_.

There was a very long pause. If Suga strained enough he could still hear Kuroo breathing on the other end. He hastened to imagine the man sitting on his lonely bed contemplating just how to respond, Kenma somewhere in one of the next rooms over with Hinata, probably still rolling his eyes at the stuffiness of such an old fashioned tradition.

“Oh-” amidst the dead-pan tone came a few muffled voices and Suga realized that perhaps he had been wrong about Kuroo’s current whereabouts. The man cleared his throat and continued with a bit more fortitude. “-well that certainly puts an awkward wrench into this conversation, doesn’t it?”

Across from him Kiyoko stirred, but did not wake.

“Kuroo-” Suga ran a hesitant tongue against his bottom lip. “Kuroo, what’s going on? I’m not mad anymore-” because certainly he had felt some kind of anger the night before even though it had been quickly washed away by a myriad of so many other things. “-I promise I’m not mad. But I need to know the truth.”

“If you’re asking if Oikawa and I slept together-” Suga couldn’t quite tell if Kuroo sounded amused or horrified. “-I’ll let Sawamura off the hook a bit and tell you that we absolutely _did not fuck around_.”

Suga’s teeth pulled at his lip. “Then-”

“Go talk to Sawamura,” Kuroo interrupted, sounding far more serious than he had seconds before. “I’ll explain things if you really want me to. But right now I think you need to go and see him so that he can make things right. He was really nervous last night-“ he hesitated, but only briefly. “And I think if you let him go because of _my_ stupidity then you’ll ultimately regret it, Suga.”

It wasn’t as though Kuroo had never instilled upon him any type of grand advice. In fact, he’d done so countless times (especially during their time at university) because Kuroo was the type of person to portray to the world his provoking smirk or devil-may-care attitude, but deep down all he ever really wanted to do was _help_. Goddamnit, why was his best friend so genuinely _nice?_ And actually right? And, to top it off, so entirely _mature?_

Suga felt a tiny groan bubble up in the back of his throat (because since when had _that_ happened?) but he suppressed it once his eyes caught Kiyoko stirring again. “Kuroo,” he whispered into the phone with a bit of incredulity laced in his voice. “You’re getting _married_ today.”

There came a little hiccup of confusion in the other end. “Yes, I am,” Kuroo conceded, sounding taken-aback.

“I’ll see you at the ceremony, okay?” Suga murmured, rustling his legs in the sheets trying to disentangle himself. “And Kuroo? Thanks.”

A knowing, rumbling laugh prompted Suga to grin a bit against the phone. “You’re allowed to be a little mad at us, you know? And hey, don’t thank me just yet. Not until everything works out.”

Just as he disconnected the call Suga’s feet hit the floor and he was up and nearly running. It had been a while since he’d been this motivated so early in the morning, but he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body as he reached out to open the door as quietly as he could manage.

But his stealthy exit became very much _un_ -stealthy as he pulled the door wide to reveal a petite blonde, knuckles raised as if in preparation to knock, wearing a Kahala polo and an increasingly terrified expression on her round-cheeked face.

“I-I’m so s-sorry!” she stammered out, all color draining from her skin as she crooked her neck to stare up at Suga in utter horror. “I-I didn’t know- I d-didn’t m-mean to-”

Suga stared with wide eyes, entirely unsure of how exactly to proceed, afraid if he reached out to reassure the girl that he’d spook her away in tears. All of his earlier determination seemed to drain away by the look of flushed uncertainty watching him as though he were this girl’s most feared enemy.

Luckily for him, however, Suga did not have to perform any type of damage control as a calming presence moved up behind him to pull the door open a few more inches. Kiyoko studied the younger woman with a soft expression, delicate fingers pulling closed the silk robe she’d since donned presumably when the panic at the open door had fully awoken her.

“Hitoka,” she greeted, gesturing to Suga. “This is Sugawara Koushi. He was staying with me last night. We went to university together with Kuroo.”

A spark lit up in the girl’s ( _Hitoka’s_ ) eyes at the mention of Kuroo’s name. “Oh,” she said, still sounding a bit uncertain. “I see- I-I still didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s just- I was just- I was coming to ask you a-about something- and- well I-I didn’t mean to- to bother-“

“Koushi was just leaving to speak with his boyfriend,” Kiyoko interrupted gently, sending Suga a very sharp look over the top of her glasses that had him startling a bit. “You’re not bothering me, Hitoka-chan.”

Suga felt his tongue swelling as the realization that Kiyoko had, in fact, been awake during his entire conversation with Kuroo and was now (albeit _very_ politely) asking him to kindly remove himself and proceed with his impending mission.

That earlier adrenaline hit him in the gut again like a ton of bricks and suddenly he was feeling a bit more anxious about the whole thing. “R-right,” he agreed, swiping a hand down the front of his shirt. “I’ll just be going then. I’ll see you later,” Suga said in Kiyoko’s direction, before moving to skirt around the tiny blonde. “It was nice to meet you, Hitoka.”

He didn’t wait around for much else to be said, or for the flush he suddenly felt rising on his cheeks to be seen. Suga’s feet carried him quickly towards the elevators, his mind trying desperately to formulate a plan or action but coming up fairly well dry. It seemed, he thought with a nervous little chuckle, that what Kuroo had mentioned earlier about soulmates might not actually be too far out of left-field- for _everyone_ here.

* * *

 

Daichi had not slept.

Or rather, he had not slept _well_. It seemed he had to have slept at least a little bit because here he was, eyes straining against warm sunlight and muscles protesting as he moved to stretch out atop the bedcovers that he hadn’t bothered unfurling the night before. Fingers rubbed insistently across his lashes to brush away a surprising amount of sandiness there and as Daichi leaned forward to sit up he realized with a tiny grimace that he had managed to fall asleep still in his dress clothes from the night before, sans only his shirt that had somehow ended up in a wrinkled pile on the floor.

Reaching down to unlace his shoes (how had his sleep deprived mind thought to remove his shirt, but not his shoes of all things??) his eyes wandered to the foot of the bed where a bundle of shriveling looking yellow roses peeked up at him from behind tissue and cellophane. If the flowers hadn’t looked pathetic last night, they certainly did now in the light of day.

Daichi found himself grimacing again, but this time for much different reasons.

After removing his shoes and socks Daichi set about to the more important task of attempting to locate his phone. Maybe Suga had tried to call him sometime between his restless midnight guilt trips and when he’d unceremoniously passed out atop their bed covers.

His phone was on the nightstand where he’d left it (on full volume) but when he flicked it unlocked there was no sign of communication other than a couple of unopened emails from his work account.

Daichi found his fingers curling around the phone’s plastic casing and he had to forcefully remind himself _not_ to throw the thing across the room.

He was just standing in order to retrieve a clean shirt from his suitcase and considering possibly asking Kuroo about that spare room he’d mentioned the night before when there came a clicking sound emanating from the front door.

Daichi froze in place as the door opened slowly, almost cautiously, to reveal the man he’d been so desperate to hold in his arms, the person his mind had been racing about before his body had forced some sleep onto him sometime early that morning.

Suga let the door close behind him, but did not move from the small, tiled entryway. He was still in his pajamas.

Suga looked a bit startled, like he wasn’t necessarily expecting Daichi to be standing there staring at him as he walked in. Which was kind of odd because all of Daichi’s things were still here strewn about the room mingling with Suga’s own and technically this was still their _shared_ room as much as he had been (a bit guiltily) entertaining Kuroo’s previous offer.

Daichi’s jaw dropped open to speak, but Suga beat him to it.

“I’m sorry,” Suga said, voice sounding entirely out of breath.

 _Wait, what?_ Daichi’s open mouth morphed into more of a frown than anything. His brows furrowed and he hoped he didn’t look too angry, but dammit why in the hell was _Suga_ apologizing to _him?_

“What could you possibly be sorry for?” Daichi was just glad his tone came out soft and concerned, rather than how frustrated the words actually sounded in his own head.

Suga’s lower lip quivered, something like a flinch. “L-last night,” he began, still rooted to his spot in the entryway. “I-I saw you at the door. I should have come back, b-but I ran away instead. I’m sorry, Daichi.”

Suga looked so conflicted as he spoke, like whatever words he’d practiced in his mind had now vanished and were replaced with a stuttering mess. And honestly, Daichi could relate.

“Suga, you don’t have to be sorry.” Daichi suddenly began to feel very out of his depth here. “It’s fine, you’re here now. If anyone should be apologizing it should be me.”

“Daichi, no-“ Suga finally took a step forward, hesitant and timid. His eyes looked a bit red, but there were no tears welling beneath the clear hazel there. “-none of this is your fault. I-I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me for dragging you into this.”

Daichi felt his vision blow wide and his fists curl at his sides. “What?” he bit out. “Why would I be angry with you, Suga-“

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to me.” Suga crossed arms over his chest; a defensive stance. “Our contract is almost up after all.”

Daichi was shaking his head now, feet carrying him carefully closer to Suga an inch at a time, trying not to spook the man. He tried to soften his voice, but it still came out a bit harsh. “Suga, don’t be ridiculous-“

“It won’t be much longer and this will all be over,” Suga said, averting his eyes to the floor between them. “We’ll eat cake, wish the newlyweds well, have an obligatory dance and tomorrow when we step onto that plane you won’t have to so much as look at me-” he paused to snap his gaze up, jaw stiff and expression unwavering.“-if that’s what you want, Daichi.”

A hundred different words welled up on Daichi’s tongue, but none of them seemed to hold the gravitas he was feeling pulling sharply from within his ribcage.

So instead Daichi lunged forward closing the gap between them with two powerful strides, curled his palms against either side of Suga’s face and kissed him.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before now, no certainly that was not the case. But somehow this kiss, this exact moment in time wherein Daichi felt as though he were breathing in air for the first time since slowly drowning just below the surface, _this_ was entirely different.

Suga himself did not stay guarded long, his body relaxing almost instantly into Daichi’s touch like he’d been waiting all this time, muscles taught and tense, to fall into him and finally release whatever it was that had been holding them back.

Daichi wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss first, if Suga propelled him forward or he dragged the man backwards and against the nearest wall with a soft thud- all Daichi could be certain of was lips against his own and Suga’s name on his tongue.

“T-that’s not what I was meaning to say at all.” Suga’s voice quavered as he pulled back a fraction gasping for air. His eyes opened to meet Daichi’s own, glowing with incredible relief. “None of it.”

Daichi felt his mouth quirk into a smile before he went to latch onto Suga’s jaw, murmuring against the soft skin there. “I didn’t figure.”

“But Daichi, I still do think you have a right to be angry with me or at least annoyed.” Suga was trying valiantly not to let his throat constrict in a whimper or moan as Daichi’s lips traveled down his neck. His words, however, were still breathless. “None of this drama was supposed to be a part of our deal.”

“Will you shut up about deals and contracts already.” Daichi’s teeth grazed against an already pink mark coloring below Suga’s ear before wrenching his focus back up to face the man again, head-on. “I think it’s pretty safe to say we’re past all that.” He leaned in to peck against those parted, kiss-red lips. “And besides, how could you think I would ever be mad at you, Suga?”

“Well,” Suga bit against his lower lip and Daichi had to restrain himself, instead moving to smooth his hands against the silver-blond’s shoulders in comfort. “I suppose you wouldn’t necessarily be mad at _me_ , but more likely at all my idiot friends.”

Daichi couldn’t help but think back to Kenma’s matching assessment of the rag-tag group with a soft chuckle. He nuzzled in against Suga’s cheek. “They meant well.”

“Yes, I’m gathering that.” Suga’s fingers crawled up across Daichi’s still bare abdomen causing him to flinch a bit against the feather-light touch. “Kuroo didn’t by chance tell you some story involving soulmates did he?”

“He did.” Daichi nodded and (mostly in self-preservation) moved to wrap his hands around Suga’s, twining their fingers. “With much corroboration from Oikawa. You were right by the way, he really is a good guy- if not a bit _intense_.”

“Tooru would be flattered to hear that I’m sure.” Suga looked up through his lashes and his lips stretched into a soft smile. “Daichi, I’m not sure what exactly they told you. And if I’m being perfectly honest, I’m still a little in the dark about everything that’s been going on around here lately.” He averted his gaze then, looking anxious. “It feels a little silly that you of all people was sent to be the messenger.”

“Yeah about that-“ Daichi chuckled a bit warily, pushing into Suga’s space to gesture towards the bed. “-I guess, according to Bokuto, I’m supposed to start with the flowers.”

Tugging at Suga’s hand Daichi guided them to perch at the foot of the bed, but when he reached for the wilted roses a tiny little sob left Suga’s mouth before the man could cover it with his free fingers. Daichi turned back, awkwardly clutching the stems, to see that the noise had not been one of sadness but one of what looked like uncontrollable mirth.

Daichi felt himself starting to frown, warmth rising up his neck, as he went to place the bouquet back on the bed but a soft hand on his wrist halted the action. “They’re perfect,” Suga whispered, his smile cracking only a fraction under the weight of his clear amusement.

“Perfectly pathetic,” Daichi muttered, head shaking back and forth but still allowing Suga to pry the flowers from him. He watched the other man stare down at the wrinkling, butter-yellow petals with a pink glow cast across his cheeks.

Suga let out another chuckle, quieter this time. “You could have at least put them in water, Daichi.”

Daichi’s eyes averted to the floor. “They were prettier last night. You should have come back-” he found himself stopping short, teeth biting down against his tongue to stop anymore of that sentence to leave his betraying mouth.

When his gaze darted back to Suga though the other man simply met him with a soft gaze, thoughtful and warm. “No, you’re right. I should have come back. I over-think things too much sometimes.”

“How is it that it still seems like you’re the one apologizing here?” Daichi shot him a broad grin. “I thought you were working on that.”

“I’m-” but Suga caught himself just in time, matching Daichi’s smile with one of his own, ear-to-ear. “Kuroo told me you were really nervous last night. Is that true?”

At the abrupt change in subject Daichi felt that earlier blush continue its way up and onto the ridge of his nose. He brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, habitually. “I- well-”

Suga’s eyes twinkled in the mid-morning light pouring into the room, clawing at where their bare feet rested against the carpet. “He also told me not to let you go.”

The blush was in full force now and Daichi couldn’t stop it even if he tried. So instead he said, “I guess he really does seem to know what he’s doing.”

Suga hummed in agreement, his lashes falling forward to create delicate shadows hovering just above his beauty mark. Daichi’s fingers twitched to reach out and brush against that inviting skin. “Will you tell me about it, Daichi?” Suga breathed out, the words escaping from his mouth like he still wasn’t entirely certain he was ready to hear any sort of response to that particular request.

Daichi swallowed, taking in a long deep breath and steadying his shoulders and beginning as tentatively as possible. “Kuroo explained that when he realized he’d been in love with Kenma all this time-” he paused, only for a fraction to gage Suga’s expression. “-that he started to buy into the idea that there is one person in the universe that you’re somehow connected to, that you’re meant to find and be with.”

Suga’s eyes still mingled somewhere between those wilted roses and the floor below but he did not move, did not flinch, so Daichi continued. “He said he’d known you and Oikawa for so long, seen your ups and downs, known you separately and together-” he swallowed again, trying to remember accurately each and every word. “-that after he confessed to Kenma and received his validation- he said things between the two of you started looking different.”

Suga did flinch at that, barely noticeable, but Daichi’s hand reached out immediately to place firm pressure against his knee. “He said it was Kenma that finally said something-” pause, deep breath. “-about how the two of you seemed happy enough-” another pause in order to seek out Suga’s gaze. “-but that you weren’t happy _together_.”

“So he asked Oikawa to break off the engagement.” Suga’s voice quivered with emotion, but his eyes were clear when they locked with Daichi’s own.

"Kuroo said that he would have come to you as well, but that Oikawa asked him not to.” Daichi’s tongue wet against his lower lip, hesitating only slightly. “Because he and Kenma were moving away, Oikawa said you wouldn’t want to break-up, instead you’d try to fix things-” his fingers tightened against Suga’s leg. “-fix things that weren’t able to be fixed. That you wouldn’t want to be alone.”

"But I was alone then.” Suga’s voice was hollow. “Afterwards.”

Daichi shook his head, massaging circles against Suga’s thigh now. “Not according to Bokuto.” He brought fingers up to brush a wayward strand of silvery hair behind Suga’s ear. “Or Asahi and Noya. Even Shimizu.”

The man’s cheek was warm when Daichi rested his palm there. Suga’s mouth trembled only once when he whispered out, “And now?”

In that moment something inside of Daichi broke, sending a giddy chuckled into his throat and a grin across his lips. “Now? Now you’ll never be alone _ever again_.” He beamed, leaning forward to trail kisses down the Suga’s nose until their foreheads came to rest softly against one another. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

A breathless laugh escaped Suga’s mouth before he was invading Daichi’s space and wrapping arms around his neck with fervor. “Of course,” he answered, burrowing into the man’s shoulder with a wide smile of his own.

Daichi felt an immense pressure leave his chest and relaxed into the embrace, pressing a kiss against the soft hair tickling at his nose. Screw making good money being charming and dapper in a tux- _this_ was it. _This_ was where he wanted to be. Right here, _forever_.

“By the way,” Suga perked his head up, inadvertently brushing soft lips against the still flushed skin of Daichi’s neck. “Why is it exactly that _Kuroo’s_ not the one telling me all of this?”

“Well, I don’t think they’d ever admit to it,” Daichi said, leaning in even closer to fit Suga with a highly amused look. “But I think your friends are a little scared of you, Suga.”

In turn, Suga’s smile managed to morph into something a bit more sly than usual. “I’m unpredictable,” he nodded.

Daichi pecked another kiss to the man’s nose. “That you are,” he agreed affectionately, trying not to shiver at the man’s sudden smirk.

Thankfully Suga didn’t notice, only pressing further into Daichi’s chest. “I can’t believe that Kuroo is so totally in love with Kenma that when he finally realized it, all he wanted was for his friends to feel that kind of love too.” Daichi felt Suga’s head shaking in disbelief below his chin. “He really is an idiot.”

Daichi ran a palm across Suga’s back, reveling in the comfortable warmth of the man wrapped around him. He grinned at nothing in particular, picturing Kuroo’s flushed cheeks when Kenma had leaned in to take his nervous hand during their conversation the night before.

“It kind of puts watching the two of them get married today into a whole new light, doesn’t it?” he murmured against Suga’s forehead.

With a little gasp, Suga pulled back to stare up at him in sudden (and yes, _unpredictable_ ) awe. “I couldn’t have dreamed of a more perfect date than you, Sawamura Daichi,” he said, white teeth flashing just before he pounced.

* * *

The only problem with starting the day off with an incredibly life-affirming (and consequently _life-altering_ ) conversation followed by an extensive make-out session followed by- _well_ \- to put it lightly, Suga was very, _very_ behind schedule.

“Suga-chan!!”

He’d just made it to the lobby, T-minus two hours till the ceremony according to the oversized clock hovering over the hotel’s front entryway, when he turned to find a slightly frazzled looking Oikawa rushing towards him already dressed in varying degrees of linen white and khaki.

“Suga, I need your help. Bokuto’s-“ But then Oikawa halted abruptly, his expression turning a bit uncertain, chin lifting and angling to watch Suga through slightly narrowed eyes. “Did Sawamura-san talk to you?”

 _Sawamura-san?_ Since when had Oikawa ever been so formal? Suga studied him for a moment, contemplating whether or not (for the sake of minor revenge) he should drag this out a bit more. But when Oikawa’s lips started to pull downwards into an actual frown Suga said instead, “Yes, Tooru, he did.”

“Well, that-“ Oikawa had to school his features into something much less excited than they had initially flashed. “-that’s _wonderful_ , Suga. Dai-chan is perfect, I fully approve.”

Ah, _there_ it was. Suga quirked a brow, nodding a bit to avert attention from the happiness and amusement invading his expression at Oikawa’s genuine words. “Well thank you, Tooru.” Suga absolutely did _not_ giggle. “Now what is the issue?”

Oikawa latched onto his wrist and tugged Suga, the latter almost tripping a bit at the unexpected touch and firm grip. “Come with me.”

Oikawa led him through the lobby, past the glass doors leading out to a private beach-view garden, the lush green lawn already scattered with golden chairs and swirling flower petals and gauzy white fabric, and down a narrow hallway lined with redwood doors and bamboo framed art until they reached a set of French doors set at the very end.

He knocked once, like it was a formality and then pushed open one of the doors to reveal a very distraught looking Bokuto Koutarou and an oppositely cool Kuroo Tetsurou reclining in an overstuffed leather armchair.

“Suga, it’s awful!” Bokuto bounded towards him, narrowly missing ramming straight through Oikawa as the lithe man dodged out of the way just in time.

Before inquiring further, Suga let his gaze linger past Bokuto’s disheveled two-tone locks and shirt tails halfway hiding his brightly patterned boxers, pants nowhere in sight, in order to match Kuroo’s surprisingly placid eyes.

“Tragic, really,” Kuroo agreed after a beat, nodding a few times and not exactly able to hide the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

Suga let out a sigh, turning back to Bokuto. “What’s happened?”

But before Bokuto could explain (lips still quivering uncontrollably as he stared into Suga’s hopefully reassuring expression) the door was opening again behind them to reveal an annoyed looking Akaashi Kejji, already dressed to the nines in _very_ form fitting black slacks and silver dress shirt, raising a pointed brow in his boyfriend’s direction.

“Koutaro, what is going on?” he asked, arms moving to fold across his chest calmly. “You’ve called me twelve times in the past five minutes.”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto whimpered, moving past Suga to reach out and grab a hold of the man’s shoulders, bowing his head pathetically. “I’ve- I’ve lost the rings.”

“No you haven’t, Koutaro.” Akaashi’s voice was soft and comforting, but the eye roll he produced for the rest of the room to see was entirely the opposite. Suga had to bite the inside of his cheek from laughing out loud and he could hear the tiny little hiccups starting in the back of Kuroo’s throat as he himself tried valiantly to hide his amusement.

“I haven’t?” Bokuto looked up, eyes large and glistening.

Akaashi shook his head. “I have them, Koutarou. Remember, you gave them to me because you didn’t trust yourself not to lose them?”

And that was where Kuroo’s strength fell flat and a clattering amount of laughter fell across the room, Suga not far behind and Oikawa at both of their heels. Bokuto spun to meet the three men with a dark look. “Laugh all you want, but at least the rings aren’t actually lost thanks to me!” he yelled out, chest puffing out in some sort of skewed pride.

“Thanks, Bo-” Kuroo made a show of wiping at the edges of his eyes. “You’re the _best_ best man a guy could ever hope for.”

Bokuto preened. “Damn straight!”

“But now that that’s settled-” Kuroo flicked his gaze strategically in Suga’s direction. “-Sugawara Koushi, what have _you_ been up to all day?”

For a brief second Suga thought maybe his hair was still a bit disheveled (he’d showered and everything!) but then watching Kuroo’s smirk grow he realized the pretense of the joke.

Suga shook his head slowly, fitting the man with a smirk of his own, though this one felt a bit more chastising. “Kuroo, for once how about we focus on _your_ love life?”

“I suppose so.” Kuroo shrugged. “It’s only fitting on a day like today, right?”

Oikawa stalked towards him, hands on his hips. “Tetsu, you better take this more seriously when you’re at the altar.”

“Oh trust me, _Tooru-chan_ ,” Kuroo’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but anyone could see there was no actual malice hidden there. “I’m taking all of this _very seriously_.”

“We never doubted you, Kuroo,” Suga chimed, fitting his friend with an affectionate gaze before moving forward to sift through a couple hangers of matching outfits to find his own. “Kenma’s very lucky.”

“Kenma is lucky,” Bokuto whined, breaking away from Akaashi to stumble towards Kuroo’s seat. “I can’t believe you’re getting married, bro! Now Kenma will have a legally binding monopoly on all your affections!”

“There’s enough of me to go around, Bo!” said Kuroo, grinning as if he might actually be a bit embarrassed by the attention. “We’ve been through this. You and Akaashi can come visit whenever you want to-”

“Akaashi!! Start looking up flights for next month!”

"Koutarou, you cannot afford monthly visits.”

Bokuto blanched, turning to his boyfriend in horror. “ _What?!”_

“Dude, when summertime comes along maybe we’ll fly out to Tokyo.” Kuroo stood to pat against his friend’s shoulder warmly. “He won’t say so, but I know Kenma misses the Sumidagawa Fireworks. We used to go every year.”

“Yes!” Bokuto’s fist punched through the air in his excitement. “And Suga and Oikawa, you can bring your boyfriends! It’ll be like a-” he hesitated only for a moment to glance up at the ceiling in contemplation. “-a _quadruple_ date!”

“Hm,” Oikawa murmured, suddenly looking a bit awkward, running a hand through his feathery hair. “I’m not so sure Iwa-chan is a long distance kind of person.”

“Oikawa, when have you let something like that stop you?” Kuroo raised a brow. “If it’s meant to be then it’s meant to be.” His eyes shifted over Oikawa’s shoulder to meet Suga’s own, tentative and full of only good-intentions.

Suga returned the gaze with a soft smile, an affirmation that cleared whatever weight was left hanging against his chest before he was brushing past the two with a nod of his head and a change of clothes in hand. “He’s right, you know,” he said. “Soulmates aren’t just a dime a dozen.”

At that Bokuto let out a loud hoot of joy tugging Akaashi in close to his chest despite the slighter man’s minor resistance. Laughter bubbling in his throat at the sight, Suga turned to face Oikawa fully. The man was staring at him, a bit of pink dusting over his cheeks and a sheepish grin pulling at his lips.

“You’re right,” he said, so quiet Suga thought for a moment it was only meant for his ears. Then Oikawa’s elbow was nudging into Kuroo’s unsuspecting side causing the groom-to-be to gasp harshly in surprise. Oikawa’s grin widened to a beam. “Ready to marry yours, Tetsu?”

* * *

As far as weddings go (Daichi had only been to two others so he wasn’t sure he was a leading expert on the subject exactly)- but as far as he _assumed_ weddings go, this one definitely had to take the cake.

Maybe it was the comfortable ache he felt in his chest watching Suga’s eyes tear up just the slightest during the vows. Or how powerfully Kenma blushed (and had that been a smile on his lips?) during the entire ceremony. Maybe it was the nervous way Kuroo seemed to sway his weight from foot to foot. Or the way Oikawa _actually_ sniffled a few times right at the end.

Perhaps it was the way that Kuroo and Kenma regarded one another in the light of the glowing sun hovering just over the water’s horizon like they’d both been partially broken all this time, not entirely whole, until this very moment. The way Kuroo brushed back strands of Kenma’s hair when he placed the traditional maile garland, dotted with little white flowers, around his neck. Or when Kuroo bent forward so Kenma didn’t have to rise up onto his toes to place a matching lei around his own.

Maybe it was their first kiss- soft and chaste and intimate- followed shortly thereafter by a cat-call from Noya, raucous applause from Bokuto, and howls of delight from Hinata and Lev. Even Yaku had joined in (after his initial scolding glance).

Or the way their hands curled around one another as Kuroo tugged Kenma gently back down the grassy aisle through wayward rose petals and the soft applause of friends and family as an officially married couple.

But probably it was all of it. Every last heart melting inch of it. Daichi had never felt this way before (was euphoric the right word?) and he sorely hoped that he wouldn’t have to _stop_ feeling this way ever again.

When Suga approached him post-ceremony Daichi found himself having to resist the urge to sweep the man off his feet, twirl him through the air, or perform some other form of juvenile, giddy, wedding-induced public display of affection.

So in light of that, he casually brushed at the windswept cowlick at the crown of Suga’s head. “Don’t you have to take pictures?” he wondered.

Instead of straying away like he might have only a few days earlier, Suga allowed himself to lean into the touch. “We took group shots before the ceremony.”

“Probably for the better-” one side of Daichi’s mouth quirked hazardously as he brought a finger up to tap against the bridge of Suga’s nose. “-Oikawa’s eyes were looking awfully pink. Yours too, actually.”

“Hey!” Suga chased his hand away with a scowl that almost immediately morphed into a contagious smile. “ _Hey_ ,” he said again much more gently, before placing a soft kiss against Daichi’s cheek.

"Hey,” Daichi answered, catching the other man’s lips this time and wrapping arms around his waist. “But really, you looked good up there.”

“The evening’s only just begun and you’re already coming on to me, Daichi?” Suga giggled, looking to follow Daichi’s gaze down at his linen dress shirt paired with khaki slacks and matching vest sporting a little sprig of greenery as a boutonnière. “Though I guess I do look pretty sharp.”

“See?” Daichi nuzzled in against his jaw. “Now you know why I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

Suga tugged at the collar of Daichi’s own button-up. “You look pretty good yourself, you know.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” roared a very familiar voice from behind. “Get a room!”

The couple turned to see Bokuto’s well-meaning grin and Akaashi’s hand tugging at his elbow. “Koutarou,” he warned, though his affectionate expression was not easily hidden behind any sort of admonishment.

“What? They’re so cute, they’re gonna rival the newlyweds!” Bokuto gestured wildly towards Daichi’s hands still unapologetically fondling Suga’s waist.

Suga snorted out a laugh, eyes focusing on something just beyond Bokuto’s broad shoulder. “I don’t think that’s possible at all,” he hummed.

There just beyond a row of palms separating the open-air reception space from the sandy beach stood the happy couple, arms twined around one another and Kuroo’s head dipped low next to Kenma’s ear. Even from this distance the quiet observers could see the twin flushes rising on both of their cheeks and the way Kenma’s fingers clung to the edge of Kuroo’s vest like he wasn’t ever planning on letting go.

“Damn,” Bokuto breathed out in a whisper. “Okay. They’re officially _The_ _Cutest_.”

Akaashi’s smile filtered through a bit more. “Come on, let’s let them have their moment.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto nodded before his eyes started to scan over the cream dressed tables and parquet floor spread across the grass. “Oh, it’s cocktail hour! You know what that means-”

“No tequila shots, Koutarou.”

“Akaashi!”

Akaashi’s head shook, but his amusement seemed to only be growing. “It’s for your own good.”

At that Bokuto balked openly and quite dramatically. “Are you implying that I can’t hold my liquor?”

Akaashi just tugged on his arm with a simple nod. “Yes.”

Suga and Daichi trailed after the two, hand-in-hand, trying unsuccessfully _not_ to laugh at the crestfallen look registering on Bokuto’s face only until Akaashi managed to shoo it away with a very chaste kiss on the cheek.

They skirted past a sweetheart table decorated with a lush centerpiece of white lilies and fresh greens intermingled with familiar yellow roses until they came upon a well-stocked bar and a sight Daichi (for only a moment) thought might send Suga around in the opposite direction. But even as Oikawa’s hands seemed to tighten around the dress shirt clad bicep of one Iwaizumi Hajime, Suga instead threw Daichi a knowing little smile.

As they approached they could see two men behind the bar, dressed in crisp white and black, that seemed to be giving their latest customers a matching, half-lidded appraisal (smirks not hidden in the least).

“So you’re the infamous Oikawa Tooru.” The darker of the two, all thick brows and sharp mouth, nametag reading Matsukawa, said with a lazy roll of his tongue. “Taller than I imagined.”

“Ah, the one who’s won over the fair heart of our Iwaizumi-san here?” The shorter of the two, sporting short clipped strawberry blond hair and Hanamaki on his own tag, threw in with wide twitching lips.

Iwaizumi, from Daichi’s perspective, looked a little red in the face. “Alright, would you two knock it off already,” he growled, but there was some venom lacking there replaced by something else.

“Knock it off he says.” Hanamaki turned to his taller companion with a look of practiced innocence. “What thanks is that?”

“Yeah, we’re only trying to get to know your new sweetheart,” Matsukawa said towards Iwaizumi, even while eyeing Oikawa from the corner of his gaze.

“You know, welcome him to the family and all that jazz.” Hanamaki’s hands stretched out in front of him in some type of friendly gesture.

Now Iwaizumi looked both flushed _and_ truly annoyed. “He is _not_ my sweetheart.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted, tugging a bit on his arm while still watching the two bantering bartenders with surprisingly bashful uncertainty from beneath long lashes.

“Oh, have we instigated a lover’s quarrel?” Matsukawa drawled, sharing an amused glance with the man next to him.

Hanamaki, in turn, fitted the couple before him with a very unapologetic look, “Our bad.”

Daichi had to reign in his laughter at the sight of a vein that seemed to be throbbing at the edge of Iwaizumi’s temple, but didn’t feel too guilty about it when he felt Suga’s own shoulders quivering against him.

“Shut up already!” Iwaizumi snapped, straining towards the two instigators but not totally able to detach himself from Oikawa.

"If I’m not your sweetheart,” Oikawa huffed, though there was an accompanying glint of obvious guile in his eyes. “Then what was all that about in bed this morning, hm?”

“Oi-” Matstukawa hooked a thumb in Oikawa’s direction. “-I think I like this one, Iwa-chan.”

“Yeah, Iwa-chan,” Hanamaki simpered. “And pretty to boot.”

With a serious expression Matsukawa dipped his gaze towards the strawberry blond at his side. “Not as pretty as you though, Hiro.”

Hanamaki’s lids seem to lower even more, eyes slanting upwards through bronze lashes almost as thick as Oikawa’s. “Well naturally, Issei.”

“If you’re not going to do your jobs and tend bar then we’ll just be going now.” Iwaizumi began roughly tugging at Oikawa, swapping their positions and hooking a powerful hand around the other’s elbow. “C’mon, Shittykawa.”

“Oh ho, pet names already?” Matsukawa grinned.

“When’s the wedding?” Hanamaki smirked.

“But Iwa-chan!” Oikawa squawked, not doing a very convincing job of trying to wrench himself from Iwaizumi’s grip. “Maybe I want to get to know your friends?”

Iwaizumi outright groaned, shaking his head and muttering “Trust me, you don’t.”

Then he proceeded to barrel right past Bokuto who let out a powerful bout of laughter that he’d obviously been holding in if the little tears springing at the corners of his eyes gave any indication. The bartending duo nearly fell over themselves as they watched Iwaizumi’s blush crawl up his neck at his retreat. Suga and Daichi at least waited for the harassed man to pass before letting their own withheld amusement show. Akaashi even let loose a smirk.

It wasn’t everyday, Daichi supposed, that it was _Iwaizumi_ of all people brought to a flustering halt by someone like Oikawa Tooru.

* * *

The reception, as a whole, was absolutely unforgettable.

But, in its bits and pieces was how Suga wanted to truly remember it.

A glimpse of Kenma’s half-hidden face against Kuroo’s chest during their first dance. Or the sharp taste of champagne on his tongue. The sight of Asahi’s face after Noya had successfully tongue-tied his fourth maraschino stem. Their freckled dance instructor tracing nonsensical designs against his blond companion’s back from across the room. Kiyoko watching fondly as Hitoka’s feet tapped against the leg of her chair with each new song played. Hinata littering Kageyama’s inky hair with buttery flower petals when he wasn’t looking (and Kageyama doing the same in turn with a knowing spark in his eyes, softer now than in days past).

Kuroo’s mother (dark hair pinned in a wild updo in a mimic of her son’s own style) constantly dabbing at her wet eyes with Kenma’s parents at her side to offer an extra tissue or two. Uncles who’d drank a little too much. Distant cousins of all ages weaving in and out of dancing guests and chattering tables.

How the candle wax dripped slowly, the glowing light trapped like fireflies from within their hurricane glass jars.

Scattered stars and constellations peeking down at them through the clear, midnight blue sky above.

Daichi’s firm hand at his waist when they swayed to the soothing beat of soft ukulele.

The cool, sugar-fine sand beneath his bare feet, here now sitting on the beach and watching the waves crash against the shore in a hypnotizing pattern with the warm sounds of laughter and music and happiness filtering down towards him and his peaceful little hiding spot.

"May I join you?” came a voice from behind his shoulder, velvet and blanketing him in comforting familiarity.

Suga shivered a bit, even in the humid evening air, and turned to meet Daichi’s soft gaze. He patted the sand next to him and the man passed off a plate arranged with two forks and a delicate slice of pure white cake that glowed under the moonlight.

Daichi sat and curled a hand against Suga’s lower back. “This is nice,” he hummed low in his throat.

Suga nodded with a broadening smile. “Better now with you here,” he said before adding with a slicing smirk. “And cake of course.”

Even amidst the nighttime around them threatening to swallow them whole Suga could see the blush rising on Daichi’s cheeks.

Suga giggled. “Daichi, I didn’t mean-” he stumbled a bit as the man’s flush seemed to only grow. “I was just teasing-”

“No, it’s just,” Daichi interrupted with a soft whisper. “You’re the only person that’s ever been able to do this to me.”

“Do what?” Suga whispered back, eyes twinkling.

“Suga-” Daichi averted his gaze, but his lips pulled into something thoughtful and sweet. “-you make me fall apart. I’ve told you that I don’t embarrass easily, but with you- well, I kind of lose my composure.”

Suga let out a breath, his skin suddenly tingling over with gooseflesh. Daichi turned back to him looking so endearingly nervous and Suga now realized just what Kuroo had meant when they’d spoken earlier that morning.

In his mind words began to echo, a long forgotten memory floating back to the surface. _Don’t be nervous. I promise, everything will be perfect._

Daichi’s tongue swiped at his lower lip. “Suga, I-”

“I love you,” Suga breathed out, the words tumbling off his tongue before he could stop them.

He tensed as Daichi stared at him, eyes widening a fraction, before closing in on Suga, the plate hovering between them now completely forgotten. “I love you too,” he said before leaning in and stealing a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that gave me life while writing this chapter (in no particular order): unambiguous fic title references, meme disaster Mattsuhana bartenders, Daichi’s kisses, 32 pages of unadulterated closure and long-overdue fluff, Kiyoyachi?, sappy glances of the Kuroken wedding we’ve all been waiting for, Suga’s happiness (finally), and also looking forward to an epilogue.
> 
> Also (for reference) I have this whole headcanon about Oikawa believing wholeheartedly in soulmates and really buying into astrology and things of that nature, so I guess that’s where some of this chapter stems from. Also, (like a lot of you) I totally headcanon Kuroo being hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend even if it takes years for him to fully realize and act on it. 
> 
> My humblest apologies that this chapter is exceedingly late, but I hope it made up for it in the end.
> 
> Alright well I'm just going to go cry now...


	16. Epilogue (Or The One With All The Happy Endings)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“It’s about damn time.”_

“We’ve got another one!”

Suga found himself startling a bit as the front door slammed just after the voice announced itself, booming down the hallway and into the bedroom easily. He smiled at the realization as he rose quickly from his desk, shutting his computer and taking the time to run fingers through his shower-damp hair. It had been nearly a week since he’d gained his new roommate, but still Suga wasn’t entirely used to someone else walking through his doorway and checking the probably overflowing mailbox three floors down.

It was actually a nice feeling, he thought.

“Let me see,” Suga hummed as he turned the corner and bounced on bare feet into the kitchen. “Akaashi and Bokuto?”

He was met with Daichi’s affectionate smile and a gold lined envelope tossed his way across the counter top. With grabby fingers he snatched it up, pulling to reveal a delicate navy blue card framed in pearly white and indeed scrawled in a sharp, modern font were the names of the two aforementioned friends.

“Who else would it be?” Daichi wondered then, dropping his school bag overflowing with books and papers onto a high top stool.

Suga smiled, cataloguing the date and time in his mind and moving towards the refrigerator to snatch up an unused magnet. “Oh, it could be any number of people by now.”

“I suppose so-” Daichi gave a snort. “-but I don’t see Iwaizumi footing the bill for fancy invitations what with all the money those two spend already in plane tickets.”

With a little flourish Suga tacked the new invitation next to the old one that had been hanging there already for several weeks. He turned and fit Daichi with a pointed look. “Good thing they’ve got friends in the airline business, eh?”

“Good thing,” Daichi agreed moving to wrap arms around Suga’s waist from behind, greeting him with a proper kiss on the cheek. “Do you think they’ll ever actually get married?” he murmured against the other’s skin.

Suga nodded, tracing faint lines against Daichi’s embracing arm and studying the invitations before them. “Yes I think so, but not until _after_ the move. Which actually might mean another reunion in Hawaii.”

“Knowing Iwaizumi they’ll probably just go and elope somewhere without telling anybody.” Daichi’s laughter rumbled warm about Suga’s back.

With a smirk Suga said in return, “And knowing Tooru they’ll have a giant party to celebrate with everyone when they get back. So no matter what, another trip to the islands.”

“I wouldn’t mind that so much.”

The corners of Suga’s eyes crinkled as his smirk grew. “What? The giant celebration part?”

“ _No.”_ Daichi planted a particularly wet kiss against Suga’s neck in retaliation. “The going back to Hawaii with you part,” he elaborated then. “It would certainly be different this time around.”

Daichi brushed fingers against Suga’s hip, staring forward at the delicate pieces of stationary. “You say that now, but we still haven’t told them our little secret yet.”

“All in good time. After all, only a few more days until the Azumane-Nishinoya Grand Nuptial Extravaganza.” Suga giggled as Daichi physically cringed. “We’ll wait to share until everyone’s drowning in mimosas the next morning, of course,” he added prudently.

“Grand Nuptial Extravaganza? Let me guess, those are Nishnoya’s words, right?” Daichi unfurled his arms from Suga to inspect the red and orange flecked invitation a bit more closely. “Asahi said it was supposed to be a small wedding.”

Suga let out a soft chuckle, eyeing the other’s mild incredulity. “Well according to Noya small means 150 and absolutely no less.”

"Wow.” Daichi’s brows shot up. “He must have a lot of family.”

Head shaking Suga replied, “Not really, Asahi’s is bigger actually.” He flicked at Nishinoya’s printed name with an outstretched finger. “But Noya’s got more friends than I can even begin to count. He’s one of those people that would feel badly if he only invited some and not the others.”

Daichi turned to Suga with a neutral expression. “I think I like smaller better.”

A knowing spark flashed through Suga’s bones and he leaned forward to brush a kiss against the other man’s lips. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

"Do you think they’ll be mad?”

Suga shot him a thoughtful look at the abrupt concern coming to mask Daichi’s features. “Kuroo might be a little disappointed. Tooru definitely will be,” he explained gently. “Kenma will probably be relieved and Bokuto will just be ecstatic either way.”

“Well, if it goes anything like the time we told them the _real_ way we met-” Daichi’s eyes softened at the memory. “-then I think we’ll be okay.”

Suga’s brows arched; that particular secret had been much more volatile than this one, and the resulting admittance had not exactly been a pretty one (even if Kenma’s knowing grin had outweighed Bokuto and Oikawa’s absolutely affronted squawking and consequential interrogation.) “Are we remembering the same scenario here? That was a complete disaster, or have you already forgotten, Dai?”

“Hm.” Daichi’s lips quirked. “But would you expect anything less?”

Suga rocked up on his toes to tap at the bridge of Daichi’s nose. “They’ve successfully brainwashed you into thinking all their craziness is actually normal, haven’t they?”

“When does Kuroo and Kenma’s flight get in?” Daichi’s asked instead, eyes glinting with mirth as he reached out to snatch Suga’s wrist until he was able to curl both of their hands together making a show of fitting the two metallic bands against one another before pulling the matching set up to his lips. “You do realize we’ll have to face _their_ brand of craziness before anyone else’s, right?”

Despite the little tremble of anticipation Suga felt building in his gut the shiver of excitement that ran through him at Daichi’s all encompassing affection overrode any residual nervousness he had. “At least this time we’ll be confessing in person,” he said, slotting the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he grinned widely at Daichi. “And you’re right, we should probably head out soon if we want to beat rush hour traffic- _hey!”_

Strong arms wrapped themselves around Suga’s waist and before he could quite gain his bearings back he felt himself being twirled and lifted and _dammnit_ how did Daichi always manage to get him into such compromising positions?

Daichi chuckled loudly and Suga could feel it vibrating through his stomach from his place slung over the other man’s shoulder. “I think we’ve got a few minutes to spare,” Daichi murmured placing a warm palm against Suga’s lower back in a simple gesture that managed to have the silver-blond’s muscles relaxing almost instantaneously.

But despite that, Suga could not let him win (again) without a fight. “Sawamura Daichi-” he wriggled and instinctively slapped his hand down against the other man’s (too perfect, so _unfairly perfect_ ) ass. “-you put me down!”

“Not a chance, Koushi.” Daichi walked towards the bedroom, smoothing fingers against Suga’s skin in comforting patterns while simultaneously checking the clock over the stove just to be safe. They had time and Suga knew it too. In fact, not counting inbound flights and long-overdue visits from best friends and weddings to attend, they had all the time in the world.

“Now that I’ve got you, I’m not _ever_ letting you go,” Daichi said, soft and low and it caused Suga to press a smile against the man’s shoulder blade because he could feel it in Daichi’s voice and the coolness of metal curled around his finger and the butterflies in his stomach that never really seemed to disappear.

He had been so right from the very beginning.

Everything was perfect.

* * *

(When they arrived at the airport later that evening, hands intertwined as they waited patiently just past the security checkpoint for their most likely jet-lagged friends ‘ _perfect’_ became a very relative term.

Kuroo didn’t even bother to say hello as his eyes, those sharp golden irises, flicked to their joined hands and knew _instantly_ before Suga or Daichi could even manage any word of explanation or greeting.

“You didn’t,” he gasped out, mouth agape, gaze unwavering. “You _wouldn’t_ ,” he whined.

Kenma’s hands grabbing at his arm and the tiny, but pleasant laughter emitting from his mouth did very little in the way of stopping Kuroo from stomping straight up to them with such a glare that Suga found himself staggering back against Daichi’s chest.

But then, just as suddenly as his mouth had twisted with the pretense of rage it was stretching back into that familiar smirk, even wider than usual with genuine happiness and Kenma’s giggling still chiming from somewhere behind him.

“Congratulations,” Kuroo said with a nod towards their glinting bands. With a sigh of relief Suga leaned further backwards into Daichi’s firm presence and let himself relax, but not before he caught the way his friend’s smirk was morphing yet again.

“It’s about damn time,” Kuroo added then and Suga couldn’t help but laugh until his chest began to ache because it was true.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it.
> 
> I have a lot of feelings about this fic, but alas life has kind of gotten in the way of them a bit. I'm sorry, I feel like I phoned this epilogue in (but really I did wanna have Suga and Daichi elope, because it just felt right for them to do it quietly and on their own terms) but still I feel like this isn't up to snuff with the rest of this fic, so I apologize for that. 
> 
> I do plan on working on some more side stories for this fic eventually. Definitely a Kuroken or two, maybe some Bokuaka and more Daisuga. I haven't really decided, but if you've got suggestions I am all ears! 
> 
> Also I made an 8track soundtrack that includes a lot of the music I mentioned throughout this fic and music I listened to while writing. So hopefully that makes up for some of the long waits and anticlimactic epilogue! Listen to it [here.](http://8tracks.com/h-lovely/we-ll-eat-cake)
> 
> Lastly, I LOVE you all so much and I cannot tell you how much writing this fic has changed me as a writer and this fandom is just INCREDIBLE, so thank you for that! I plan on posting some other things I've been working on lately and filling more tumblr prompts so be on the lookout for that. But for now, I'll just say thank you for your support and your love of Daisuga and all of these wonderful characters. I couldn't have done it without you all.


End file.
